#kindness is tricky because you can't do anything about it. there is nothing to be changed about it. nothing to work on

[lilacerull0]

me when elena has mean thoughts about lila: okay, understandable.

me when elena has loving thoughts about lila: get this away from me.

[another-lost-mc]

Soo like would the demon brothers including the other demon characters kill for mc? 👻

It's not a question of will they kill for you, but rather, who do they have to kill? Because of course they would.

If it's some nobody lesser demon, chances are they can do the deed and get away with it without anyone knowing (or caring) about it after. Higher-ranking demons within the nobility are more of a challenge - the social and personal consequences are much higher, assuming the original offense is a minor infraction and not something that would warrant a formal punishment of the court. If it's something serious, it's better to let Diavolo take care of it (and trust when he says that he will).

Angels are tricky to deal with. Outright killing one would probably anger Diavolo too much, let alone what Michael's reaction would be. Punishments for Celestial Realm denizens who offend or hurt you (and by extension, the demons that care for you) are non-lethal and have to be carried out with some level of care and subtlety. They can't arouse too much suspicion or anger from the other realms. Fortunately, angels aren't likely to do anything too grievous towards you anyway. (The angels that know you best have their own methods of dealing with their angelic brothers or sisters that need a little enlightenment when it comes to your happiness and well-being.)

When it comes to deadly retribution, humans are probably the easiest for your demon companions to dispose of. With their frail bodies and fondness for sin and reckless behaviour, humans die unexpectedly all the time. So long as they're careful not to leave any evidence of their involvement behind, some poor human's unexpected demise is coincidental at best. Your pet demon isn't likely to be held accountable for it either - assuming Solomon hasn't taken care of the miscreant first, that is.

Of course, killing is such a vague concept, and each of your demonic friends has their own preferences when it comes to getting their hands a little bloody for you.

(warnings: mentions of violence/murder/torture, unhinged behaviour, demons being demons, etc.)

RECKLESS AND IMPULSIVE: It might surprise you how quick they respond to aggression or insults towards you and the level of violence they're capable of. Their love for you is so strong, they can't help it. Perhaps it's better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, because they know you're too kind for your own good. Letting some no-good demon get away with hurting you, even the tiniest bit, is unthinkable. It doesn't really matter what you say, because once the switch flips, it's too late to stop them. The demon is already dead at their feet before anyone else nearby even realizes what happened.

— Mammon, Satan, Beelzebub

CAREFUL AND CALCULATED: A bitter insult, some derogatory comments on Devilgram, obnoxious criticisms heard amongst the chatter of RAD's busy hallways - it doesn't take much to anger them when it comes to defending you. You're so precious, their uniquely imperfect little human master, and you deserve better than that. They'll take their time, they'll make their plans, they'll consider their options carefully. When the deed is done, they'll make sure every last trace of blood is gone from their hands and their teeth before they see you again. It would be a shame to tarnish you with the filth of the unworthy.

— Leviathan, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Mephistopheles

MERCILESS AND UNTOUCHABLE: There's nothing that matters more than your safety and happiness. They're the ones you can turn to when you feel like you can't turn to anyone else. You can confide in them because they're strong. Their power and influence is unmatched, and no matter what troubles you, they'll see that it's taken care of. They used to scare you before, but now there's comfort in the firm hand clasping your shoulder when they lead you to your door, or the warm cup of tea they press into your hands, or the princely smile that promises you never have to worry so long as they're close. You can rest easy at night knowing whatever threatens your well-being is taken care of, even if you don't realize it. The dungeons beneath the Demon Lord's Castle that house the wicked, and the dark deeds carried out against them in your name, are burdens they gladly bear.

— Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos

[wisteria-blooms]

*NSFW* strawberry wonderland (ii) (bill weasley & reader)

*MINORS DNI!*

PAIRING: Bill Weasley/You SUMMARY: Unbeknownst to you, you have more of an effect on Bill than you could ever imagine. And he can't stop thinking about all the things he wants to do to you in Nice. WARNINGS: sex, fingering, oral, masturbation, unprotected sex

A/N: To get me out of a writer's block, I present you this. I've only read it over it once so I'll fix any mistakes as I go. I hope this doesn't ruin long hair & tattoos for you... it doesn't need to be part of the original series if you don't want it to be. It's set after Bill and Reader arrive in Nice.

STRAWBERRY WONDERLAND (II)

Strawberries.

That’s what you smelt like to Bill Weasley. And very much overwhelmingly so as you nestled into his arm, preparing to disembark the ship that had just docked the nauseatingly rocky French shores. He attributed it to all the fresh strawberries you crushed up at the bar. 

“What kind of liquor do you reckon goes well with this?” you asked, holding up the bleeding purée to his face. 

‘Anything that would get you to kiss me,’ a voice in his head willed him to say. He swatted that thought away and instead replied, “Rum.” All his family recipes and all his female cousins’ favourite girlish drinks came to mind.

“Hm.” You turned away from him and perused the shelf for the highest of top-shelf rum. “And what else?”

“Maybe some simple syrup, a dash of lime and—,”

You slammed a bottle of rum on the table and twisted it open. Bill closed his mouth and let you speak. “Keep rambling and one might think you’re an expert at cocktails or something of that sort.”

“You asked me!” Bill said in defense, a chuckle erupting from his lips. A lush haze was concentrating in your eyes from the wine you’d inhaled the moment you boarded the ship. Bill figured his taller and heavier figure was better in diffusing the alcohol than your smaller one. 

“Whatever,”—you slid the cup of strawberry puree towards him—“let’s just drink.”

And now the scent of fresh strawberries, lime, and wine lingered on your person, stuck to it like summer honey. It was the most heavenly of scents. He imagined it would be most concentrated on your lips and tongue, and he would risk everything—a lot—to test that hypothesis. And what if that old saying were true? ‘You are what you eat.’

Would you taste like strawberries elsewhere, dare he dream, on another pair of lips?

“Do you think we had too much?” you asked him, snapping him out of his dirty reverie where he was in between your legs. “I might be sick.”

“I’m sure the sea made it worse,” he reassured you, letting you grip him tightly. He looked back at the relentless waves. Merlin, if you kept touching and squeezing his arm, he wasn’t going to make it until after you left. “And you best recover before your dinner tonight.”

“Right—ooh.” You drew the last vowel, lips rounding, which sent a chill up Bill’s spine.

Then when you let out a deep sigh into the crook of his arm, he found himself at war with himself. He looked down at your eyelashes, fluttering down to cover your eyes and traced your pouty pink lips. You were the sweetest, most innocent thing at twenty-three years old. And he didn’t realize how much desire had stirred up inside him in the past few months that he now really wanted to kiss you—Oh, what was he sugarcoating his own private thoughts for? He wanted nothing more than to fuck you.

He just wanted to know what your innocence would feel on him and his experience. But he couldn’t. He was much too old, much too tainted compared to the likes of you. What he wanted was above any voice of reason. 

Fuck it, he was tempted by the thought of ruining you. 

Bill Weasley had to wonder how he got himself in this tricky predicament as he settled into a bed miles away from home. With age came maturity and emotional growth, right? At thirty-one, he had years to leap over and meet his milestones. Clearly, he missed a couple landmarks because he felt as if he was trapped in the body of a fourteen-old boy who’d discovered pornography à la Wicked Witches Weekly for the first time.

Everything in his mind was just wrong, wrong, wrong. 

After the whole debacle with you walking in on him mid-shower complaining that your own room had flooded and him checking that it really had, you’d insisted on taking the couch in his own room. He pulled off his shirt and shut the lamp off. Then, he laid on his left side and tried to make out your figure on the couch.

He shouldn’t be thinking about having sex with you as you were peacefully asleep a few metres from him. He was supposed to be the epitome of your older, more mature (pretend) boyfriend who could will away an inopportune erection at any time. But what was consuming his mind right now was, well, the fictitious scenario where you did agree to share a bed with him tonight. There wouldn’t be a cold and empty space beside him. You’d be right up against him, unknowingly grinding up against his aching nether region as you combed through a bad dream, and teased out his erection further as a result. The fantasy echoed in his mind again and again until sleep finally caught up with him.

“Ngh, Bill,” you whined, your voice thick with sleep. 

You nestled into the cove of pillows, trying to chase away your bad dream. Your body followed suit. Your ass was turned towards him, giving him full permission and the ability to grind against you. He meant to be gentle, but his thrusts—like his breathing—were growing more rapid and frantic.

His hands weaved their way past your loose cotton top and landed atop your naked breasts. He was grateful that your shirt was cut so loose and short. His hands latched onto your breasts tightly, mainly out of lust and secondarily to find an anchor for his writing body. His calloused fingers began their usual routine of teasing your nipples. He pinched them occasionally as he continued to rub his stiff cock on your behind. You were responsive, both in the soft moans that left your lips only to be subdued by the pillows, and the wetness collecting in your cunt.

Your panties were fucking soaked. Bill could detail your folds through the slickness, and feel your spilling entrance through the thin fabric. And that thin fabric was the only thing preventing him from thrusting his full length into you. You writhed harshly when he pinched your left nipple again. The nub was standing at full attention for him. 

“What do you think?” asked Bill, voice husky as he asked in your ear. “Can you take my cock or will I have to stretch that tight pussy out?”

You responded with nothing more than shaky breath. You grinded against him, trying to shove your panties aside. “....want… your big cock inside me, Bill.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. 

One of his hands hastily left your breasts in pursuit of your panties. He shoved one side to join the other which gave him freedom to trail the head of cock against your cunt. How much better you felt without a fabric barrier was indescribable. The precum leaking from the tip of his cock met your own wetness. He felt like he was being enveloped in silk. And your opening swelled as if inviting him in, begging him to fill you up with his endless cum and impregnate you.

He dove two fingers straight into you, just to really confirm you were ready. He immediately began curling his fingers inside you, feeling the engorged, sensitive area inside that drove you wild.

“Your cock, Bill,” you whined.

His hand was drenched when he pulled his fingers out. Immediately, he replaced the emptiness with his cock. With one thrust, he entered you. You let out a sharp gasp. He knew his size was hard to take, and it always took you a minute or two to adjust to him. But he knew how much you wanted him to ruin you, begging him to fill you up to the hilt. And he could only oblige in those moments, watching as your eyes rolled back every time your orgasm washed over you. 

“Please,” you begged through gasps. “I need… need all of you inside me.”

Bill flipped you over so your face was pressed against the pillows. His hands spread your ass cheeks apart. He could see the tight ring of muscle that was clenched around his thick cock. He was really stretching you out. And as much as it hurt him to do, he pulled out.

“No,” you whined, your hand flying back to find and guide him back into you. 

“Patience,” he commanded. 

He ran the tip of his cock up and down your folds, gathering enough lubrication to meet your increasing demands. And when he felt it was sufficient, he slid himself back into you, pushing past the drier spot that was cutting him off halfway.

“Yes, that’s it, ah—,” you moaned, meeting him halfway for the last couple inches. Your ass raised in the air, desperate for more of him. You held yourself up with your elbows, using them to anchor yourself as you pushed back on him. You worked through the part of him that was thicker than the rest. It was always tricky, but how fast you got there depended on how horny you were, and tonight, you were insatiable.

“Fuck,” he whispered, feeling himself being enveloped by more of your sweet cunt. You were so helpless and needy for him. When he looked down again, he realized he was completely sheathed inside you. He began thrusting, the first couple of seconds working at a steady pace. He earned a few moans. Then, he pulled himself all the way out only to fill you completely again. 

“Bill!” you screamed. Your legs trembled as you clenched around him. He did it again, and again, so hard and fast, aching to hear those delicious screams. Wetness dribbled down your thighs and onto the sheets as you lost yourself in the pleasure. 

“Stop, Bill, I’m going to cum—”

Bill woke up with a jolt. His chest heaved up and down and his breathing was significantly laboured. When he grew accustomed to where he was—the Malfoy summer house in Nice—he looked over to you. You were buried under your covers, blissfully unaware of the lewd positions he held you in in his dreams. He hoped you didn’t hear his breathing, or that he hadn’t said anything weird in his sleep. 

He felt a severe ache between his legs. He had feeling this was the most intense erection he’d had in ages. He already knew he was intensely red and swollen. 

Maybe he needed to have sex with someone, anything that wasn’t his own damn hand, but he wasn’t fond of an anonymous hookup.

Curiously, he reached past the waistband of his briefs, looking for some sense of relief. He was pulsating hard and it was barely what, seven in the morning? He gave himself a stroke, gripping hard at the base and letting go near his wet tip. He suppressed a moan. An image of you, edging him with your tongue, came to mind. 

No, he couldn’t do this with you in the room. It would be most improper and he had to hold himself to a higher standard. Instead, he grabbed a newspaper on his nightstand. It was two days out-of-date, but he figured he should get up to speed with what was going on in Egypt. He was certain that reading about excavations and pyramids and uprisings would take his mind off things. 

Not more than a few minutes later, he heard some ruffling and kicking about on the couch.

“Morning,” Bill greeted.

“Good morning,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “How’d you sleep?”

“Very well,” he responded. A fucking bold-faced lie. “You?”

“I slept well, too.”

You were all bed-headed, doe-eyed innocence in the white sheets and he was corrupt was hell.  

You got on your feet and pushed open the curtains, letting the sun fully stream in. Bill gulped silently, watching your legs sway around the room. Fortunately for his sanity, you had on some white shorts. Unfortunately, they were so short that any unplanned movement could reveal your panties, and he wouldn’t be able to stop there. 

“We usually eat breakfast together downstairs," you yawned, covering your mouth, “but maybe some caffeine is in order first. I’m still waking up.”

“A morning swim is the best way to do that,” Bill suggested. He was really treading a fine line with that suggestion; he was adding fuel to his own wildfires. He really loved the idea of a morning swim, he really did. But there was the bonus aspect of you having to be properly suited for the occasion, and you weren’t going to do it in those itty-bitty shorts and a tank top.  

“It’s one of the things I miss about Egypt that we don’t have back home. And it helps quell the heat, too.” He, honest to Merlin, did do this in Egypt. But not for any underlying reasons. 

“That’s a good idea,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do that.”

When you arrived at the private stretch of beach, Bill watched as you slowly unwrapped yourself from the shawl you had on. When you found the will to submerge yourself, even if it was just a toe, he approached from behind you.

“Gently grazing the water isn’t the definition of a swim, you know,” he said, lightly tapping the inward curve of your bare hip.

“I know,” you mumbled back, a tinge of pink on your cheeks. 

He jumped in without thinking and you soon followed suit. He submerged his whole body into the pristine waters of the French Riviera. When he resurfaced, he was treated to a view he was sure he didn’t deserve. 

The wet, white material of your bikini clung onto the skin of your breasts like it was a matter of life or death. Drops of water dotted down your cleavage, slowly, tantalizingly so. The weight of the water dragged your bikini straps down, giving him an expansive view of your breasts. And was that an erect nipple poking through? The cold water must’ve teased it out. 

Yeah, the swim was a bloody awful idea. 

“You’ll never catch me, (Y/N),” he teased. He sent another wave of water towards you to stall you, laughing as you squeezed your eyes shut and sputtered.

“This means war, Bill!” you cried. You outstretched your arms to pull him back towards you. You were aided by a little current that carried you closer and your fingers finally made contact with his strong shoulders

“Ha!” you exclaimed, your fingertips getting a grip on him. “You’ll be sorry!”

He held his breath as he fell back into the water with you on top of him. When he felt sand and little pebbles dig into his back, he knew you’d both arrived on shore. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw you directly on top of him. Your wet hair grazed his cheeks and—

It wouldn’t be technically wrong to say you were grinding on him, not with the way your legs were splayed on both sides of him and the pressure you were putting on him. Your breasts were planted on his chest, and he could appreciate the clothed erect nipple on his skin. And as he looked down, there was more to see of your breasts than before. One wrong move and he would have a full view of the girls. It would be such a shame if your top came undone. But never mind that, he had to resist to urge to plant his hands on your hips and—

“Bill, it’s too deep,” you whined.

Bill’s hands were planted firmly on your hip bones, holding you down, forcing you grind on him with his cock deeply planted in you. You’d enveloped him to the hilt before, but you’ve never had him like this before, not in this position, and it was becoming too much.

“I think you like it, (Y/N),” he said with a chuckle. You looked down, embarrassed at the sudden spurt of wetness that ran down your thigh from your sex. As he began thrusting, you lost any sense of speech besides the ability to give a silent moan. When one of Bill’s hands loosened their grip on your hip to tease your engorged clitoris instead, you threw your head back.

The moment you’d realized how you’d fallen, you yelped immediately and apologized. 

“Time for breakfast?” you offered impassively, carefully looping your other leg over and rolling yourself off him. Sand stuck to the side of your wet legs. You offered him a hand.

“About time for it,” Bill responded as you pulled him up. 

“That was fun,” you commented, wrapping the beach towel over yourself and slipping into your sandals. “Better than my usual idea of a swim.”

Bill hummed in agreement, saying, “your idea of a swim isn’t much of a swim,” and followed you back into the house.

When you were back in your room, you’d dried off hastily, saying you were going to be late to breakfast.

“Is there a set time for breakfast?” he asked, eyeing as you flew around the bathroom looking for a comb.

“Not really, but it’s always at eight, and I was already chastised for being late yesterday.”

He had suppressed a comment about how beautifully haphazard you looked. Your hair was half-tamed, your cheeks flushed. You looked like you’d just had a good long romp in the sheets. 

“Then I’ll join you in a second,” he promised. “I’d like to look a little more presentable for your parents.”

“You look fine,” you commented. “But that’s alright, I’ll let them know.”

When you’d left the room, Bill headed straight to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and removed his clothes. As he felt his hardening cock spring loose, his frustration grew tenfold. He shouldn’t have suggested the swim; he was going to lose circulation to his brain if you kept turning him on like this. He stepped in the shower and placed his left forearm on the wall. His right hand reached out to stroke his uncomfortable erection. 

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself. Drops of cold water ran down his back as he leaned over. He was so close already and thinking about your body atop of his, your wet cunt pushing down on him, begging to be fucked, was really expediting the process. “Shit.”

In no time, he felt the intense pressure break. He bit down on his lip to keep from making too much noise. Ropes of cums spurted out of his cock, falling into the shallow water that’d accumulated in the shower base. He heaved, his heartbeat rapid, as his strokes slowed.

When he looked down at the mess he’d made, he could only think: ‘what a waste.’ It should’ve gone into some orifice of yours instead. Maybe your mouth, where his hold on your head would be iron-clad, and he’d make sure you swallowed every single drop. Or even better, your cunt, where it would all spill out on the sheets the moment he pulled out because it was just too much for you.

When Bill felt himself harden again, he cursed the higher deities. He’d never recovered this quickly before. Again, not since he was a teenage boy. And there was what, another two weeks of you frolicking in bathing suits and sun dresses? 

You were slowly and surely going to be the death of him.

[whetstonefires]

Do you have any opinions on Scholomance?

I do! I like it a lot. I really enjoyed all three books, blitzed through them easily and was much more excited to see how the plots unfolded than I'm used to these days, as a jaded adult, and I also really appreciated them as works of craft.

Especially the first one, I spent the whole time being all 'wow!' at how simple it was. So easy to read, but no waste. You really need to know what you're doing, to get that kind of pared-down elegance of form to work and still fit so much content in.

Like these are dense, there's a fantastic stylistic minimalism that allows El's character all the space it needs to breathe by making absolutely every other thing and person in the whole novel also do character work for her, which is exactly where the first person voice shines.

Also great use of character perspective to make the pacing feel really natural, so the fact that the first book takes three weeks, the second book takes one year, and the third book is like. Five or so incredibly stressful days spread out over the course of a few weeks? Doesn't feel imbalanced.

I actually got distracted from the story a few times by noticing the strength of Novik's technique. 😂 This is a me problem, in itself it's the opposite of distracting. Very low-profile.

I think the Scholomance is a great example of how far you can go in specfic when you aren't cringing from the label 'derivative,' because the Scholomance books feel very fresh ad clean specifically because nothing in them is concerned with standing out as 'original,' whatever that's supposed to mean, only with being well-executed and suitable to its task.

Hm, maybe that's where Liesel was born, the intersection of the efficient narrative style and the vast proportion of the story that concerns the maximization of utility and the instrumentalization of persons by themselves and others, and the forces that incentivize these behaviors. Or maybe she's just the narrative counterweight to Orion 'Head Empty' Lake lmao. How's that for a principle of balance, Galadriel?

I really did enjoy how beautifully it was laid out, over and over, in dozens of shades of humanity, how no matter where you go in an exploitative system almost everyone is being driven by the same survival instincts.

Because I don't think I've ever seen made so cleanly clear why you just can't expect any person or small group of people, no matter their level of goodwill or status, to unmake one of these systems from the inside; how it's not a matter of people being bad but of every single person being very...small.

And then not retreating into the idea of a person who is Big coming and breaking the cruel system from the outside as some kind of panacea, because 1) that is terrible, even if it's necessary and done in the best way possible and 2) that's not a sustainable answer to anything. Getting a balance between the protagonist being able to effect change and not subscribing to the great man theory of history can be really tricky!

Also did I mention, I love El, and I love most of the cast, even the dreadful ones. How am I going around with this many feelings about Li Shanfeng who doesn't appear until the actual climax?

The romance murdered me a bit, but it took up no more space than it absolutely needed to do its job, and I respect that. Also I appreciated Orion as a love interest; Novik has a slight record at this point of a version of that style of male love interest who's like a caricature of Mr. Darcy but old, which was shaping up to be my least favorite thing about her body of work.

...Orion is kind of like if you took the human king from Spinning Silver and gave him an alignment flip come to think of it, so he's not coming out of nowhere. Lmao.

Which reminds me (re: romance character typing) I've heard Novik didn't want it to be known she was astolat, which this series has renewed my sympathies if so. Because if I were a published novelist I wouldn't want people going 'you know, that resolution was really emotionally satisfying! reminds me of that fic she wrote where optimus prime and megatron get stuck in a hole underground and hatefuck about it.'

I don't even like Transformers. That fic almost made me cry. Actually I suspect it reads better if you don't like Transformers because I'm sure it does not give a shit about canon.

Anyway, whoever pointed out that one of the things El has going on is she's Enoby (and we're going to sit down and explore what the true reason to put your middle finger up at preps is, and what are some constructive ways to channel that socioeconomic wrath, and what it means that there is no ethical consumption under capitalism) was right and I'm not entirely over that either.

Fucking love El's mom as a character. Spectacular level of parent relevance and usefulness. A+.

Aadhya and Liu are also characters who fucking delivered.

Re: minimalism though, I laughed at the start of The Golden Enclaves when I realized that none of the enclaver characters who'd gotten development in the the first two books were from London, the enclave El was theoretically shooting for when we met her.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Thank you for answering my Origins Dragon!Marinette and Turtle!Adrien question! Please don’t worry about disagreeing with the idea; I asked for YOUR opinion and analysis on why it would OR wouldn’t work, and that’s what I got. 😌 It also made me consider meta and in-show stuff that I hadn’t before, which is cool. You mentioned wanting all of the Kwamis to be part of some sort of set of two or more, and I’d love to hear what those sets are in your head going down the full Chinese Miracle Box list and why you’d pair them together with consideration towards both the Kwami themselves and their Powers.

(Post this ask is referring to)

Oh good, I'm glad that you found it useful and not discouraging!

Talking about how to pair the Kwamis is a little tricky because of an issue that I've discussed before. That issue being that the "Chinese" miracle box seems to be about as Chinese as fortune cookies. That makes me uncomfortable because - as far as I'm aware - the Chinese zodiac is a major part of Chinese beliefs and traditions. As such, I personally feel like the box should reflect those beliefs and traditions, but I also don't know those beliefs and traditions, so I can't tell you how I'd effectively group the zodiac Kwamis in order to honor their cultural origins. I can't even be sure if my criticism is valid or just me being overly cautious!

In an ideal world where I had money to invest in this sort of thing, I'd hire a cultural consultant to work with me to design a Chinese miracle box that feels Chinese (or to tell me that I'm overthinking this and to just do whatever I want). Assuming that I'm not overreacting, this would probably mean redesigning a lot of the powers and looks so that they honor Chinese lore and not Western lore.

For example, one thing that I know for sure is that black cats are not unlucky in China. They're actually symbols of good luck (all cats are), so a Chinese box would not have the implied good luck/bad luck thing that we get with Ladybug and Chat Noir. My limited research has also raised some doubts about ladybugs being a go-to symbol of good luck or creation in China, but I'm a lot less confident about that one being a bad choice as the association may exist. I couldn't find anything definitive one way or the other. This leads me to think that, if the association exists, then it's probably a bit obscure, meaning that a Chinese box would probably go with a different animal if we were trying to be culturally accurate to what a Chinese-inspired box would really look like.

I can say with reasonable certainty that Creation is associated with the masculine yang and Destruction is associated with the feminine yin, so Tikki should possibly feel masculine to feminine Plagg. At the very least, their spots in the miracle box should probably be reversed with Plagg in the black and Tikki in the white since yin is black and yang is white?

[Image Description: center of the original miracle box showing that ladybug earrings are placed in the black part of the yin yang symbol while the black cat ring is in the white]

I also known that white rabbits being associated with time, watches, and umbrellas comes from Alice in Wonderland and not China. Are you starting to see why I'm doubting the cultural accuracy of the miracle box?

The alternate way to approach this is to remove the possible issue of Chinese culture being treated as "mystical" or nothing more than ornamentation by making the Chinese miracle box into the miracle box of no specified culture. Since that's kind of what the box already is in terms of deeper meanings and cultural ties, I think we can go that route for this discussion since we have taken a moment to acknowledge the potential issues with the box's existing design and why that's leading me to take this route as - to me - this seems to be the only way to stick to canon's lore while avoiding potential further insults to Chinese culture.

If we went to my ideal extremes with this approach, we'd actually massively cut down the number of miraculous in the box because I think that there are way too many miraculous! Who needs nineteen "unique" powers to arm and fight one villain? This is extra true since there's no real theme to the miraculous beyond the initial setup of Creation/Destruction + five random powers followed by the addition twelve more random powers with no clear ties to any culture or theme other than the look of the Kwamis that grant the powers.

But that's getting real extreme, so for this ask, we won't go there. Instead, I'll talk about some general ideas for grouping the powers that we already have and some ideas for how you could fix the randomness of our current powers to make them feel like they make sense.

To start, I love the fact that our two main heroes are supposed to be a pair power wise. That's a lovely way to approach your lore and is why I think that they should have grouped the other miraculous, too. Why are Creation and Destruction the only set? Why aren't the others in any sort of group? Why do these miraculous have the powers they do? What ties them to this box and not another box?

There are a few ways to approach pairing the other miraculous. You can come at it from a theme perspective such as the fact that both the snake and the rabbit are all about time. You can also look for opposites such as the turtle being all about defense and the dragon being more about offense. You can even go more broad and say that a given group of miraculous is all aspects of one type of power such as the peacock, the goat, and the ladybug all feeling like aspects of creation. There's really no clear way to go about this because the current powers are so freaking random!

When I approach this stuff, I don't just come up with powers. I come up with the lore and let that help guide the powers or I shape the lore around the powers I want to use until both things make sense. For example, it makes sense that Creation would have some magical being guiding it. It also makes sense that Creation would either create Destruction for balance or that they both popped into existence together so that there was always a balance. Once you have that, you say, "Okay, what other Forces would these two want in order to help guide the universe? What can't they do or what do they do consistently enough that they might want to hand it off?"

Going from there, you start to come up with ideas like maybe they wanted Time to have a physical embodiment so that they could get some guidance on the long term effects of the things that they were making, so that's Fluff coming online. But Time is a lot and they liked their balance, so maybe Sass was brought online too in order to balance Fluff with Fluff being focused on what was and what could be while Sass is focused on what is, thereby giving Fluff someone to ground her. Or maybe you even add in a third Kwami to be some sort of historian who remembers the past while Fluff is the future and Sass is the now.

Another thought path is that most things are not pure Creation or pure Destruction. You must destroy to create. When you make bread, yeast consumes sugar to create air bubbles. Creation and Destruction working together. So maybe Tikki and Plagg wanted to make "children" who could do what they couldn't do solo and that's how we got the peacock?

No matter how you go about this, I really don't think that there's a great way to explain/group all nineteen miraculous, especially if you add in the eagle and Fei's wacky prodigious with it's animal abilities. It's just too random! But I do think that there's a lot of potential in strong subsets of the ones we get in canon, especially if you're allowed to edit the powers or the Forces a bit to make them fit their supposed Force or granted power better. I've talked before about how I'd mess with Lucky Charm to remove the odd Luck association and focus on Creation and that's what I'd do with most of the miraculous because, right now, most of them don't make much sense.

For example, Ziggy - the goat - is supposed to be the Kwami of Passion and that somehow gives the power to create anything you want? I know creatives are passionate, but that still doesn't fit in my mind. It would make more sense for this to be an inspiration power like the pig or for the Force to change to Creation and Ziggy is just a lesser ladybug for some reason? And Stompp - the Ox - is Determination, but I'd actually label his shield power as an aspect of Protection, making him in some sort of pairing with the turtle. Self defense verses defense of others?

In short, the canon lore is a disaster that needs major work to feel solid which leads to lots of paths for fixing the mess. In my opinion, the best way to go about fixing it is to take the element that worked best - the Creation/Destruction pairing - and expand that out to make strong, logical lore for the other Kwamis and their associated powers. Lore that probably won't be rooted in any one culture because no culture seems to be a solid match for the lore that canon is using, which is only concerning because of the current obvious associations with China and that's not even touching on the whole Tibetan monks + Chinese culture issue. Go check out the post I linked at the start for my thoughts on that which basically sum up to, "I am not even remotely qualified to talk about this one, but it seems like a terrible idea."

(Once again, reminder that I'm not Chinese or otherwise deeply informed on Chinese culture. I'm just a person who tries her best to respect other cultures and the miracle box sets off a lot of warning bells for me. Those warning bells could always be a false positive, so you shouldn't take my thoughts as some sort of final say on this topic. Please feel free to look into this on your own and form your own opinions.

If you are Chinese or otherwise educated in these topics, then please feel free to reblog this or send an ask giving me some additional context as I really do love learning about this stuff, but it's near impossible to research! I spent a good hour talking to a local librarian trying to find books or articles in our library that talked about the Chinese zodiac from an academic perspective and we found nothing. I've got a few interlibrary loan requests out to academic libraries in our library network though and I'll follow up on this if those books end up having information that adds to the discussion.)

[residentflamingo]

Samurai Momo Headcannons

Hirai Momo x fem! chubby reader

AU: Ancient Japan/ Samurai 👺⛩️

Genre: fluff, a pinch of angst, & smut

Warnings: mentions of violence, war, sexual themes, & cursing

A/N: Surprise you guys! I decided to post this first instead of the Jihyo fic ;) Man this was so much fun to write! I thought it would be cool to write something like this since I haven't seen anyone write about the main love interest set in the Samurai era. It was a little tricky at first since I had to do a little research, but it's nothing I can't handle. Let me know if i did okay! This is my first time writing anything smut related so I’m very nervous about it 😅 It also kind of turned into a yapping session... Fun but also not fun fact, I've had this sitting in my drafts FOR A YEAR 💀 Ik, absolute insanity. Anyways, let me know if I should write more stuff like this! Enjoy reading, and check out my other works if you would like :) It's always greatly appreciated ❤️

Word count ———> 4,932

Who is this girl?

Hirai Momo is a well-respected and feared samurai in the Paand Xico Nation

Known for defeating many powerful armies and killing the best swordsmen

She is fierce on the battlefield and cocky as hell too

She doesn’t show any mercy

Merciful only towards townspeople who are in danger 

She is a samurai alongside her other 8 comrades called the “Osoroshī Defenders”

They rose to power after defeating an almighty empire, and saving their hometown, the Paand Xico Nation

They are known for being a fierce samurai squad with kind-hearted personalities

Momo has been best friends with her 8 samurai comrades ever since childhood when she first started samurai training

She grew very close with them over the years, and eventually told them that she was gay

The funny thing is, they knew already

When she told them Jihyo was like “Yeah we know. It's pretty obvious by the way you look at Y/N. You are definitely in love with her, and you get like a gay panic attack every time you see her.”

Momo was so glad that they were supportive of her

But she was also a little shocked since there was still the possibility of them being weirded out by her after her confession

She even cried that night while going to bed because she was so happy

The members like to tease her every now and then when she talks to you, or when she gushes to them over how cute you are 🥹

How you guys met

You and Momo were childhood friends

Met each other at a very young age

Both of your guys’ parents were close friends of each other’s so you crossed paths pretty often

The both of you spent time with each other a lot

You and Momo would go explore the woods, and play around in the creeks

Racing to the creek was essential for the both of you

Momo would let you win on some days just so she could see you smile

Sometimes you would dare her to do weird stuff, and she would always do it just to see your reaction

She even ate a worm once just because you told her too…

Momo likes to tease you a lot too

It’s one of her favorite things to do when she’s in a good mood

When you guys would be walking down the creek, sometimes she would splash water at you and you would get mud on your shoes/clothes

And she would just be dying laughing hearing your surprised scream after getting water splashed on you

"Hey why are you laughing at me?!"

"Y/N you should've seen the look on your face whenever you got splashed! Oh my gosh, it was so funny."

You two became inseparable over time

Momo’s mom would have to drag her home some days because she would be at your house for to long

“Honey you’re barely even home anymore since you spend so much time with that Y/N girl !”

As Momo got a little older, she became interested in wanting to be a samurai

She mostly wanted to be one so she could protect you one day, and to show off her cool skills

She loved how cool they looked, and the way they would fight with their swords

So she enthrall y begged her mom to take her to lessons

When she told you she was taking lessons to become a samurai, you were shook

“Y/n, did you hear? I’m gonna become a samurai!”

“Wait what?! When did you decide that?”

“I had my mom start taking me to lessons the other day! Someone’s gotta be able to protect you from the bad guys someday ;)”

You were very happy for her, but also very worried since she can be aloof at times

Momo loves to show off her cutting skills with her katana

After cutting down a small tree she would smirk at you and say, “Wanna give it a try, Y/N?”

How you became her crush

She developed a huuuge crush on you around the time when she started samurai training (10 yrs old)

(A/N: yeah I did some research, they really did have the kids start samurai training when they were 10 yrs old…)

Momo noticed how beautiful you were one summer night, when you both were stargazing while laying in a field of grass

She was mesmerized by your beauty, and how cute you sounded when you would giggle at her ranting about the stars

From then on, she had a habit of always admiring your looks 💕

“Momo what are you looking at?”

“Oh nothing. I just now noticed you have this little freckle on your nose that looks like a heart. It’s cute.”

You developed a crush on her some years later, after realizing how sweet she was with you

(both 16yrs old)

And you thought she was pretty cute too, with her long black hair, and her beautiful features

It was almost impossible not to fall in love with her

Momo would love to hand feed you snacks, and fix your hair when it would get messy

She also loved giving you makeovers during slumber parties

She’s really clingy and affectionate in general

we know what you are Momo

When you would catch her training, she always wanted to teach you a technique she learned that day

Would end up failing to do so because it was always some advanced shit

“Momo I don’t have any idea how to cut things with a katana, let alone do a flying kick afterwards !”

“Oh cmon on pleaaseee Y/N-chan, I promise it’s super easy. It won’t take very long to learn when you got me teaching you ;)”

She would purposely be hands-on while teaching you, and you would be a blushing mess while she helped you adjust your grip on the katana

Momo got protective of you as she got older, stronger, and more experience with training

(now both 18 yrs old)

And damn did she have some killer muscles

Especially her abs good lord-

When she would get a scratch on her, or a cut, you would always be there to bandage her up

And of course, Momo would be a blushing mess as you would put a patch on her cheek

Afterwards, you would always get onto her about how she needs to be more careful and whatnot

She would just laugh a little bit while looking at you with admiration

Momo found it so cute how protective you were of her, even though she was becoming a tough samurai

At school, she would always glare at the boys that would try to hit on you

And she would protect you from bullies too

“Y/N what happened to your arm? Why is it all bruised?”

“A boy wouldn’t leave me alone after I told him I didn’t want to date him, so he fought me because he was so mad.”

“Momo did you hear? Someone beat up the same boy that punched me the other day… I wonder who it was.”

(clearly has bruises on her knuckles) “I don’t know, maybe it was a tougher girl or something. Who knows, he had it comin to him anyways.”

You thought it was cute how protective she was over you

Whenever you would cry, she would always be there to hold you and tell you sweet nothings

She hated seeing you cry :(

Your happiness is her happiness

Momo made a vow to herself that in the future, she would still be the one holding you like this but in a different setting

The confession

When Momo was finally finished with samurai training (20-21 yrs old), she was super excited

But her excitement didn’t last for long

She got the news that she would have to be sent out to war for a couple months, or even a year, along with the other troops and her 8 best friends

You were both devastated

What if I never see her again? What if I never get to tell her I love her?

On the day of Momo’s departure, your face was stained with a waterfall of tears

She was standing outside nearby the army of soldiers with you in her arms , waiting until they were ready to depart

You and Momo had been hugging for a really long time, making sure you both took each other in before it was time for her to leave

After some time, the main advisor of the squadron spoke up…

“Alright everyone, say your last goodbye’s to your loved ones. We will be heading out in no less than 5 minutes!”

Momo tried to let go of your grip, but you held onto her and moved your position so you could look her in the eyes

“Do you really have to go? Maybe you could fake an injury, and say you’re too crippled to fight or something.”

“I can’t do that Y/N, you know that. It’s my duty as a samurai to defend this nation with my life, and to make sure I can be the strongest warrior.”

“Yeah your right, I know you can’t just bail out. But, I’m just scared you won’t come back. How long do you think you’ll be gone? And what if you get really hurt?”

“Our advisor said we’d be gone for months, or even a year. It depends on how long the war goes. Me and the girls are scared too, but we’re also confident in our abilities. Don’t worry Y/N, you know I’m a tough cookie and I’ll be able to handle myself out there.”

She tried smiling at you after she said that, so it would somehow to calm you down a little

But she knew deep down, that you could read her like a book

You already knew how nervous she was just by looking in her eyes

“Alright everyone, get ready. We are leaving as of now! Momo, go get your horse and be ready to leave, or else you’ll get left behind!”

“Okay okay I’m coming! I have to go now Y/N, make sure you take care of yourself okay? I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even realize I’m gone.”

“Okay Momo stay safe. I lo-.” You quickly stopped yourself. At that moment, you weren’t really sure if you wanted to confess your love to her yet

“What was that last part Y/N?”

“Oh nothing, just go Momorin. Your advisor looks pretty pissed.”

“Haha okay then. Goodbye Y/N. Stay safe for me okay?.”

“I will, I promise.”

Momo walked away with a smile on her face, but on the inside, she was heartbroken

She knew it would be a while before she could ever see you again

Momo jumped onto the horses saddle, and exhaled a long breath making sure it would prevent her from crying

But when she turned around and saw you waving, she made sure to engrave that image in her head until she saw you again in the months to come

You both waved back at each other until Momo seemed to be getting further away from the eye, as her horse trotted away. Soon becoming unrecognizable in the thick fog enveloping the forest

Memories came flooding back, as Momo’s horse trotted through the very same winding creeks and little caves you guys used to play in

Oh god how she missed you already, and it hadn’t even been 5 minutes yet

As Momo started thinking about you, she started getting worried about whether if she was making the right choice or not. So, she decided to asked her best friends for help

“Guys, do you think I’m doing the right thing by leaving Y/N? I mean I feel like I should’ve told her something else before we parted ways, but I can’t figure out what I should’ve said.”

Jeongyeon whispered under her breathe, “you damn idiot…”

“What did you say Jeongyeon? Why don’t you come over here and tell me what you just said, instead of just whispering it under your breath huh?!”

Jeongyeon exhaled a deep breath she had been holding in, and finally let out what she’s been wanting to say for a while

“I said, you’re a damn idiot! Haven’t you loved Y/N for what, I don’t know, 10 years? And you still haven’t told her that you love her? What if you don’t come back from this damn war, and she has to wonder all her life if you ever loved her or not? Don’t you want to marry her someday, and be able to call her your wife?"

Momo sat there for a moment just stunned. As she thought about it for a while, she finally realized she was making a mistake

“God, what the fuck am I doing?” Momo said

“Go get your girl Momoring!” Nayeon retaliated

Jihyo also had a few words of wisdom for her too, “Don’t hesitate to tell her how you feel either! You may not get another chance.”

“You’re right, I need to go see her right now! I’m gonna go, but I’ll be back in 10 minutes tops. Tell the advisor I’ll be right back, or else I’ll get my ass kicked.”

Momo made a sharp turn with her horse and made it gallop at speeds faster than it had ever gone

As she got closer and closer to where you and her last saw each other, she could see your faint figure in the distance

You were finally walking away from the send off area, and accepting the fact that she was really gone

Unitl you heard a familiar voice loud shout from the forest, "Y/N, wait!"

Is that... Momo? you thought

You stopped in your tracks with your face contorted with all sorts of confusion, and then you turned around

And there she was

The horse hooves slid on the dirt, making the dirt kick up and the horse come to a smooth stop

"Y/N!" Momo yelled out

"Momo? What are you doing here why are you-"

She jumped off her horse and jogged over to you

"I can explain!" She stops in front of you panting and out of breath

Your face is still ridden with confusion, wondering why this goofball was standing n front of you, and not with her squadron

"What is it Momo I don't understand..."

Momo's breathing slows down a little bit, and her heart pumps with adrenaline

She speaks a little bit faster than usual, hinting at her obvious urgency, and nerves of confessing to you

She grabs both of your hands and hold them

"I-I have something to tell you Y/N... Something I've been wanting to get off of my chest for a long time."

Your eyes widen

Is it what you think it is?

Momo sees the shock on her face, and she does something that even she surprised herself with

"Oh screw it."

She quickly let go of your hands and brought hers up to both sides of you face, bringing you in for a sudden but loving kiss

"Wha-" You're cut off as she kisses you

It takes a couple seconds for you to process it, but once you do, you melt into it

You smile into the kiss, and wrap your arms around her, bringing her even closer your body

The kiss was oh so romantic, listening to the rainfall in the background, and feeling your clothes get from how long you two were standing there

It was all worth it

When Momo pulled away, she looked at you starstruck, still trying to process the fact that she just kissed you

Her lifelong crush!

You smiled back at her, feeling the same amount of shock as Momo

"Wow... I didn't know you had that in you."

She giggled and then hit pinched your cheeks playfully

"Well, I have many surprises Y/N."

"I can see that... How long have you been wanting to do that for?"

"Years... Most definitely." She caressed your face with her thumb, looking at you with pure love and adoration

You smiled, pulling her in to whisper in her ear, "Me too."

(had to switch to a different writing block since there was a word limit 🙄)

She chuckles, moving lips back down yours and kissing you again

Before she knew it, she heard someone whistle behind her, along with shouts from other people

"Oooo look at Momo and Y/N" Jeongyeon said, quickly receiving a slug on the shoulder from Jihyo

Momo pulled away embarrassed, hiding her blushing face into your neck

You giggled, wrapping your arms around her waist and rubbing her back

"I take it those are your friends?" You said teasingly

Momo mumbled, "Yes... Unfortunately."

You kissed the top of her head and moved her in front of her so could look at her better

"Oh I'm sure they aren't that bad..."

"Hey lovebirds, I don't want to ruin the moment, but we have a war we need to go fight in. Momo, get your ass over here!" Jihyo said loudly

Momo rolls her eyes, and groans in annoyance, yelling back "Coming!"

She turns her head back towards you and smiles, bringing you in for a bone-crushing hug

"Momo... I can't breathe."

She quickly lets go, "Oh my gosh I'm sorry...I can't help it."

"I know."

You smile, pulling her in for one last kiss, then having to pull away since she was in a hurry

"I'll write to you every day Y/N. I love you... so very much."

"I love you too Momo."

Her heart melts as she hears that, feeling her life long dream come true

She smiles, heading back on the horse and waving goodbye to you once again

She couldn't wait to come back and smother you with kisses

Domestic Life

When she leaves for months at a time, she writes you a letter every single day

So when the messenger comes by to deliver mail, he'll have multiple letters waiting for you

She is so good at writing too it kind of surprises you a little bit

Even though she's not there with you during those months, those letters make you feel like she's standing right next to you, telling you about her day and how she's feeling throughout each and every day

When she gets home from the war she will be super clingy 24/7

Which is kind of how she is anyways, so you're pretty used to it lol

Will tell you an endless amount of funny and intense stories that will just make you stare at her in awe, wondering how she's so amazing

During her normal home life away from samurai duties, she loves to spend as time with you as possible

She loves to cook for you, help you do chores around the house, and even do laundry

Whatever you need help with, she will always lend a hand so you don't have to do it all on your own

You guys will go on dates at least once a week to try to get out of the house once in a while lol

She always lets you be the one to pick the restaurant

(she's such a gentlewoman)

If it’s a place that she dislikes, she would never say anything about it

Your happiness is her happiness

Will train at home every now and then

Not all time though since she prefers a perfect balance between her love life and her Samurai duties

Relationship

After coming back from war, you two decided to get married right away

You knew dating was only a waste of time since you knew each other well, and how good of a partner you guys would be to each other

People in the town WERE NOT shocked when you two got married

Like had been predicting it since you two first started being friends with each other 💀

Momo is super duper sweet when she's with you <3

(but isn't she supposed to be the most feared samurai across many nations?)

Yes, but that doesn't matter!

With people she's not particularly friends with, she will act stoic and reserved, making her look very intimidating and serious 24/7

With friends she's her usual playful self and cracks some funny jokes here and there to make the whole group laugh

But when she's with you, her true self comes out

She is the textbook definition of a cuddle bug

Loves cuddling and being able to hold you in her strong arms

Kisses your tummy and draws shapes on it with her fingers

Gives you back and foot massages

Has to hug you and say “I love you” before bed or else she won’t sleep very good that night

Super clingy and doesn't hold back when showing affection

Compliments you alll the time without fail

"That dress looks so pretty on you my love...

Remembers small details about you, and buys you gifts 24/7

Knows you so well that she knows exactly how many freckles you have on your face

Loves listening to the sound of your voice and finds it cute when you rant about some of your favorite things

She is also an absolute goofball

“Y/N, what’s 3+5 ?”

“It’s 8 honey…”

“Oh. I thought it was 7.”

Doesn’t show that side of her very often, but when she does it never fails to make you laugh

You both have matching tattoos

Hers is hidden since tattoos are prohibited for samurai's

The design is a yin & yang symbol, with yours being a yang, and Momo's a yin

You being the yang, the purity and balance you bring to the relationship

Momo's being the yin side, showing that she brings the fire in the relationship, and the darker side to her that trains in killing people

It also represents how you two were originally best friends, and the soulmate connection you both have

Arguments don't really happen that much between you two

When they do you both always talk through them together, and have good sit-down talks about what you can do better

She hates seeing you cry :(

Absolutely breaks her heart

Especially when she's leaving for war and you're sobbing on her shoulder

Momo usually cries with you and holds you, making you feel very comforted in her grasp

When it comes to jealousy, she's not really the type to get mad at you

Only gets mad at the person flirting with you

Will come up behind you and wrap her arms around you waist, peppering kisses on your neck

"Hi Y/N... who's this fellow you're talking to?"

Loves letting everyone know that you're hers

Mostly in a subtle but not so subtle way since that's the way of the samurai

This girl's loyalty is IMMENSE

When another woman tries to talk to her, she will not hesitate to give them the cold shoulder and ignore them

“No. I have a wife.”

Will not hesitate to fight someone for you

Or possibly will kill them if it comes to that point

No one is talking bad about her you on her watch

Always has a sharp eye on you when in public, making sure you're safe from any of her enemies

Her duties come with a couple cons

In the middle of the night, she will sometimes wake up in cold sweats and start sobbing

Has PTSD flashbacks of the people she has killed in war, and remembers the innocent civilians she couldn't save in time 🙁

You hold her in her arms, telling her that it's not her fault and that she is still a good person

Will train so hard on her own that you have to drag her away from whatever activity she's doing

Is so so hard on herself :(

But when she's cuddled up in her embrace, her mind shuts off, forgetting everything that was stressing her out in the first place

She loves you so so much

Would die for you, no hesitation

You're one of the only things in her life that she finds enjoyment in

Being with her is the luckiest thing you could ever imagine

In The Bedroom

(mentions of strap-ons, praise kink, body worship, pussy eating, dom! Momo, and ab riding. minors & men pls do not interact!!)

Let's get one thing gay straight, when Momo comes home from war after not seeing you for a long time, you better be prepared to not be able to walk the next day

Ends up fucking you for hours, and having to carry you to the bathtub afterwards

After she gets settled in for a couple weeks, she will go back to being her soft and gentle self during sex

She's not really the type to degrade you unless you're being very bratty

Being bratty will result in her teasing until you're a crying and needy mess

Definitely smacks your ass a few times too

"Hm what did you say? You're gonna have to speak up honey. Mommy can't hear you when you're whining so much."

Has you get on your knees and eat her out, running her hands through your hair and pushing you closer to her

Is bigggg on body worship and praising

Momo knows how insecure you get of your body at times, so she'll do everything she can to make you feel good about yourself

Has you strip down naked in the middle of the bedroom so she can admire your curves and your bare body

Then has you lay down, kissing every inch of your body, whispering sweet nothings to you

"You're so beautiful... I love you... I love your stretchmarks... I love your curves..."

Sometimes will have you on the verge of tears from how sweet she gets

Holds you like you're the most precious thing in the world to her

Momo is more of the type to give

But, she doesn’t mind being on receiving side every now and then

When she does give…

She eats your pussy out like it's her last meal every. time.

"Fuck honey... You taste so good."

Loves it when you wrap your legs around her head, and somewhat suffocate her with your thighs

Makes her eyes roll back slightly and digs her nails deeper into your skin

Sometimes she gets so drunk in your taste that you have to pull her away by her hair

She would whine and be begging to taste you again

“Please Y/N, just for five more minutes.”

She absolutely adores your plump figure

You cannot walk anywhere without her smacking your ass or grabbing onto your love handles

Almost impossible for her to keep her hands off of you

Has reoccurring fantasies of bending you over and fucking you with her strap, imagining your ass and thighs jiggling with each thrust

Be careful wearing a swimsuit or dress around her…

She will most likely rip it off of you behind closed doors, and leave plenty of hickeys on your skin to show everyone that you're hers

The sight of seeing the clothing hug onto your curves, and knowing that she’s the only one that gets to kiss it really turns her on

Has also fucked you multiple times in the pool at home because she couldn’t help herself when she saw you in a bikini

Also has an obsession with your boobs

Loves groping them, and being able to nuzzle her face in them after she's done licking and sucking them

Remember her habit of writing letters to you while she's away? Sometimes she will incorporate her neediness for you in them as well

Has to secretly send them in so no one reads them

You never knew how horny she could really get until she left for war

You would secretly stash the letters in a drawer, reading them sometimes while she was away (real)

Momo makes sure she never leaves you unmarked

You always end up having tons of hickeys or will have plenty of bite marks on your neck

Knows how much you love her abs, so she would let you grind on them until you make a mess all over her

"Oh look at you... You love making a mess on mommy's abs don't you baby?"

Works out a little harder when she's training so she can be strong enough to manhandle you

Her cockiness when she’s training is on another level

Especially that damn smirk…

She has a few scars on her body from war and training that she knows turns you on as well

On hot days she would wear revealing clothing on purpose; like crop tops, tank tops, or any muscle shirts she could find

All of those things mixed in with sweat running down her body… damn

Her favorite position is most definitely missionary

Loves being able to look you in the eyes when making love to you, and making sure that you feel loved

But also really enjoys doggy style so she can feel your ass up against her

Always checks up on you to make sure you're doing okay

"Tell me if it gets too much, okay honey?"

Momo takes aftercare very seriously

Carries you to the shower/bathtub and helps wash you off

Then carries you back to bed and snuggles up with you, showering you with sweet kisses

"You did so well Y/N... I love you so much."

Also apologizes and kisses any small bruises if she was rougher with you than usual

[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 !!

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.173 The whole truth

I had every intention of waking up early to get a jump on cleaning up the mess, but my bed had me in a chokehold. The room was the perfect temperature thanks to the cooler autumn air and my skimpy attire. I eventually pried myself away from the soft, cool sheets, but the thought of washing piles of soiled dishes made me regret ever leaving my crisp sanctuary. Still, I dragged myself downstairs, fully prepared to insist we call a cleaning service only to find Sophia collecting the last of the plates. That woman is a goddess, and the Watcher must really love me. I appreciated her pro-activeness, but felt bad about her doing all of that alone when we were supposed to tackle it together. Even though I knew there wasn't anything else to do, I still looked around to find a way to help and found piles of dog hair everywhere—even outside. I used to stay on top of brushing Rosie when she and Kooper were our only babies, but now I barely know what day it is half of the time. She's lucky if I'm able to go jogging with her.

With nothing else to do, I jumped on breakfast while Sophia checked on Desiree, who was still asleep. It's been a while since I had a nice, quiet, mess-free meal with my wife. Well, at least it began quietly. My phone would not stop ringing. First, Less called with a wild story about bath time adventures with our terrific trio. Spoiler alert: they were not so terrific, heh.

Next, Maira called to explain why she missed Desi's birthday party. I was so overjoyed to learn she had gone on a date, and it went well! She's finally ready to let love into her life, and I couldn't be more happy for her. I never understood why she was so hesitant, apart from not wanting to be pressured by society's expectations. She has her issues just like everyone else, but she is so sweet and deserves to have all the love she's given come back to her tenfold. I tell her I can't wait to meet him--when the time is right, of course.

Sophia, overhearing my side of the conversation, expressed happiness for the news and hit me with an unexpected question when I hung up.

"What's the story with you two?"

"Story? I thought I told you."

"You did. But you clearly love her. I know you said you were always just friends, but something happened. I think I'm ready to know what that is now."

This is such a healthy conversation between two very mature adults. Even though Sophia has always been very confident about our relationship, we couldn't have had this conversation any earlier than now. We've lived through some things. She's seen me with my friends and understands the love I have for Maira is a different kind of love that is not a threat.

"Okay..."

I sit back in my chair, thinking of what she really wants to know and how to tell this story because it's one of my least fond memories.

"I almost lost her."

Sophia gasped, and I knew this story was not what she had expected.

"The first time I went to her place, she was going to make dinner. Heh, she wasn't much of a cook, but she wanted to try. I don't know how it happened, but the stove... It just...blew up. She was on fire, and I..."

It still pained me to remember how I ran out of there like a coward, leaving her to fend for herself. I think that's just one of those things in life I'll never get over and will beat myself up about it until I'm dead.

"I ran, Sophia. She was completely engulfed in flames, and I left her."

"I'm glad you did," she said. "Fires are so tricky! Both of you could have been hurt, or worse."

"I know. It doesn't make me feel less like a punk, though. Her building has a good alarm system, so the fire department came quickly and saved her, thank Watcher. She was okay, obviously. But I wasn't. I didn't realize how special to me she was until then. It wasn't like I wanted to run off and marry her or anything, but she was someone I wanted to keep. I held her so tight. Her hair and clothes were singed, and she really needed to shower and change, but I couldn't let her go. I refuse to let her go."

"Wow, Luca! I'm so sorry you had to witness such a horrible accident. I see how things are different with her, especially when you feel partly responsible!"

"Yeah. I'm glad you understand."

"I think I was afraid before, but I'm ready to know all your little secrets now."

I'm really glad she asked me about this. Not because I felt burdened and needed to share, but because it brought back the kind of intimacy we shared back when we started dating. It's been so long since we've experienced it, I forgot it was even there. Between the wedding stuff, pregnancy stuff, parenthood stuff, and death, I feel like we've just been surviving for the longest, and I'm really looking forward to get back to living...whenever that is.

Just as that thought entered my mind, yet another phone call came in. It was Dub with a very enticing invitation. He and Maia got engaged last night, and they're eloping! His request that was high key a demand was to join them in Ciudad Enamorada to witness their nuptials. They rented a huge house with enough room for us if we want to stay with them. The only caveat was we'll have to leave as soon as possible because it's going down later today! I gave him a tentative yes because there is no way my best friend is getting married and I'm not there. And to turn down a free vacation? I think not. I told him I'd confirm in a few minutes after I discuss with Sophia who waited anxiously for me to explain the exciting, one-sided conversation she overheard. I honestly thought she would hesitate to make such a big trip in a short amount of time, but to my surprise, she said yes immediately. After all, this is the same woman who asked me to move in with her after our first date, heh. We're going to the City of Love, baby!

[urxmommy]

on the topic of setting a bed time and parenting apps, im curious how much control you would want over what a sub does in the day to day life. ofc alot of this comes with extra details to consider, but given a sub is comfortable with these things and there isn't a financial or material barrier to it. Would you want to pick what they wear on occaision or even every day? Would you want to decide what they eat like ordering for them at restaurants?

if you are doing ageplay or petplay would you want them to ask you permission or need you to accompany them to go to the bathroom?

Would you want to control the kind of media they consume? either in the sense that your taste is better than theirs, or you moderating them from adult content in an ageplay sense, or the reverse of only letting them consume media that is erotic to keep them aroused and pressed against their cage. even banning them from reading at all because a pet can't do that. do you like the idea of just a fully domestic stay at home sub, that isn't devoid of their own thoughts or opinions, but is willing to default to what you want on pretty much everything?

would you want it even a step further where they ask you what they should think about something and they just accept what ever you say even if it's they don't need to worry their pretty little head about it?

I like the idea of having quite a bit of control in a subs life but I see it more as guidance, rather than control. I would love to pick out what my sub wears everyday, especially if they’re a little 💕.

I’d also order their food at a restaurant. If it’s at home I would pick their breakfast and dinner on weekdays and if they’re good I’ll let them pick all of their meals on the weekend. :)

I would definitely accompany them in the bathroom but only if they’re into pet play or age play. If they’re not I’d still think it’s cute if they asked for permission and I got to say no if they forget to use titles etc.

Hmm. Controlling what media they consume would be tricky because I would still want my sub to watch and listen to the things they enjoy. However, if they’re in little space I will make sure they don’t come across anything nsfw because that stuff’s not for babies <3. Outside of that I would like if my sub watched specifically shows I like but that has nothing to do with kink, it’s just something that makes me happy in general.

Yes. Yes. Yes. I love the idea of having a stay at home sub! Especially if they’re a service sub, a little or a pet. I would love coming home to my sub waiting for me on their knees by the door after they spent their day cleaning and doing their errands. I’ve always fantasised about having a stay at home partner.

For a little or pet I would love to keep them at home but I wouldn’t make them do anything other than small chores around the house and leaving me cute notes and things they coloured that day.

I also adore the idea of my sub defaulting to what I want on everything, I love that but only as a fantasy though! I want my partner to voice their opinions etc, that’s important to me. If they’re feeling subby I would think it’s precious if they asked me how to feel about things, they shouldn’t have to worry about that stuff. They should just let mommy tell them how to feel about it ❤️.

[otakween]

Digimon Girls Festival (Image Songs)

It's been awhile since I've done a post about "audio-only" Digimon media. Digimon has so many of these!! If you're curious this site seems like a good place to see all the info about the albums out there. Digimon-Basic is where you're going to want to go if you want to download the albums, but most of them are on YouTube too. I gotta say, this fandom is nothing if not super well documented! I'm impressed.

Loving the cover art for this (why do they all look like they're going to different parties though?) As you can see, this is a collection of image songs for all of the girls from Adventure, 02, and Tamers. No Frontier, unfortunately :'( With most anime, characters get 1-2 image songs, with Digimon they get like 5 for some reason (spread across different albums).

Image Songs

Ruki Makino - My Style (Listen here subbed)

A very fitting song for Ruki in terms of the edgy rock n roll style and her singing about wanting to stay true to herself. I found her singing about wanting wings to be pretty random though. I feel like they just stick that in anime songs cuz it sounds cool lol (I think one or two of the other image songs talked about wanting wings).

Favorite line was "I don't want to imitate anyone, I want to be me." I feel like what Ruki is struggling with is that she does care what people think of her a lot (hence her angsty facade) but really wants to break free of that and be her true self.

The lyrics were kinda poorly translated grammatically, but I've tried to translate Japanese song lyrics before...it's super hard. I feel like some things just end up sounding dumb in English and it might be better to go the localization route instead of direct translation (if this were an official thing).

Miyako Inoue - Yamato Nadeshiko Panic (Listen here subbed)

Damn, it's a good thing I know what a yamato nadeshiko is or else this song would seem pretty weird. The subber decided to translate yamato nadeshiko as "japanese woman" which...sort of makes sense but it leaves out so much context. To be fair...it's a tricky one (as I said in the previous bullet, translaton is hard!)

Anyways, this song wasn't super interesting. It was basically Miyako singing about how she wants to be an elegant, "ideal" woman. Low key trad wife vibes lol Nothing wrong with wanting to be a good wife/partner, it's just not something I relate to 😅

I feel like I never fully got a grasp on Miyako's character. The only thing I remember is that she was a fangirl and kinda boy crazy. There was an episode about how she's really outspoken I think?

Sora Takenouchi - Sky-Blue Wind (Listen here subbed)

It seems like a lot of these songs are about not being honest with yourself. It's all very Japanese lol. Sora is singing about putting on a brave face for the sake of her friends. I guess that's fitting since we did see her run away when she was upset in the anime.

She sings that she "likes her role" as the optimistic one...reminds me of Ted Lasso and Waymond from Everything Everywhere All At Once. I can't tell if this kind of outlook is admirable or deeply unhealthy.

Shaochung Lee - My Future (Listen here subbed)

This one was disappointing because I liked Shaochung. It was a super unimaginative song about Shaochung wanting to grow up. Like...I guess that makes sense, but it's a very obvious and lazy choice (with her being the youngest). Maybe she could have sung about her relationship with her brother or Lopmon/Terriermon?

I did think the "I can't see the after-10pm world" line was pretty cute/clever

Hikari Yagami - Reflection (Listen here subbed)

According to fandom wikis, this is a response to the Takeru song Focus which I wrote about here. I still feel weird about these two songs. Why would they depict Takeru and Hikari as a couple when that wasn't in the source material (imo)? I don't remember the 02 epilogue saying anything about them being together! Maybe the image songs aren't canon lol

There's something funny about Hikari calling Takeru's eyes beautiful when I just picture them as generic anime eyes. I guess blue eyes would be something to sing about in Japan. (I actually think Hikari's light brown eyes are prettier).

Juri Katou - The Color of Someday (Listen here subbed)

Sheeesh this one was dark (I mean...to be expected). It sounded to me like Juri was singing about being depressed and anxious, unsure how to live a "normal" life. The color in the title refers to that "normal" future that she wants to achieve.

A lot of the song seemed to be about masking and being afraid to show any vulnerabilities to the world. She also says she doesn't understand what love is or how to love (probably cuz of her crappy parents).

Looking back on it, I kinda wish they had foreshadowed Juri's darker side better in Tamers. She started out as such a goofy, comic relief character that her breakdown felt less real to me (also, I cared less because my brain had already categorized her as "generic background comic relief girl."). If they had shown a tiny hint of a crack in her facade sooner, it probably would have made her more interesting.

Good morning/Goodnight Calls

(These should be easy to find, they're in the same playlist as the videos above)

I don't really know what the point of these are, going to be honest. The album contains random voice lines (around 20 seconds each) of the girls saying good morning and goodnight. It reminds me of those Vtuber voice packs. Personally, I'm a big fan of Japanese oddities like this, but they seem very niche.

I thought the appeal would be to pretend that the characters are talking to me, but in the first voice clip Ruki is addressing her grandma...guess I could pretend to be her grandma lmao

Okay, Sora's wake up/goodnight call literally sounds like waifu bait (very breathy)...which is strange considering she's an elementary schooler. Who was this made for?

Some of these would make decent alarm sounds, if you're into that sorta thing. I think it would get very annoying very fast to have an anime girl yelling at me first thing haha

Sora and Miyako's were so vague and general that they could have been from any series. No mention of digimon or anything like that.

Why is Mimi showing up now but didn't get an image song? Wasn't she the singer of the group!? (Her voice lines were very shrill, my ears are bleeding lol)

Hearing cheerful!Juri after listening to her song feels...uncomfortable

I wonder if these were just improv'd on the spot. I want more backstory.

[partywithponies]

BEGGING U TO ELABORATE ABOUT THE WHIFFERDILLS

OKAY OKAY listen. listen. I'll give you the brief version.

Whifferdills, originally from the Doctor Who comics, where things can get already get really weird and conceptual, are one of the most alien alien species in the Whoniverse, even by comics standards. They're shapeshifters, right? Nothing new or strange in sci-fi. Except usually when a shapshifting character or species is plot relevant and lore-important, the writer will write in some kind of limitation to their powers. Some kind of set of rules. But when it came to Whifferdills, they just... didn't.

Whifferdills can be anything. Literally. They can be inanimate objects. They can be puddles of liquid. They can be microbes. They can be the size of mountains. They don't seem to have one set default form that they revert back to, they're supposed to be always changing. Frobisher staying in one form most of the time is established to be him just being a little freak by his own species's standards, and even then, the form he stays in is. A penguin. Because he just likes penguins. Whifferdills don't age, at least not physically, unless they actively choose to, because they have conscious control over what their own bodies do at all times. They are functionally immortal. They are almost impossible to kill. Try to throw them off a cliff and they'll shapeshift instantly into something that can fly. Try to drown them and they'll shapeshift into something with gills. Throw them into a vacuum and they'll shapeshift into something that doesn't need to breathe at all. They don't inherently need to breathe at all. Shoot them or stab them and they'll just shapeshift the wound closed. In his first story Frobisher shapeshifts into a burger and survives someone literally eating part of him and is entirely unaffected outside of being mildly annoyed.

All this to say, Whifferdills are weird as hell and OP as shit. There is literally no reason to assume they reproduce sexually or organically. Why would they even? How would pregnancy even work, in a being whose body is by design supposed to be ever-changing? And how can you spend half your existence living as insects or cash registers and still have a concept of gender? Again, why would they even?

And to bring up just a few specific moments: in one comic, Frobisher (in penguin form) mistakenly believes he's laid an egg, and The Doctor (with the air of someone who's had to explain this before) tells Frobisher that this is impossible, because he's a male penguin, and Frobisher still seems a little confused by this. And to be clear, Frobisher is supposed to be highly intelligent. Frobisher is a notorious wanted criminal. Frobisher is a professional private detective. The Doctor sees Frobisher more as an equal and a partner than a companion. Frobisher plays chess against the TARDIS for fun. And Frobisher struggles to remember the difference between male and female penguins, the species he has a vaguely autistic special interest in.

And in the Big Finish audio The Maltese Penguin, Frobisher makes an offhand comment about he finds the humanoid form particularly tricky, because they have all these "odd dangly bits" that he can't see the purpose of.

I put it to you that Whifferdills do not even have a concept of biological sex or gender, because it's just so far outside of their perception of life and the universe. The TARDIS just translates Frobisher as "he" and Francine as "she" for the benefit of us the audience and the benefit of people like Peri, who in return could not even begin to fully comprehend the lived reality of a Whifferdill.

[brainyrot]

Hey. I like the way you write.

LMAOJDIS

Chaos everywhere, wood flying and breaking, bullets made of who knows what, ink and death.

it felt like a war was playing in front of him, which he couldn't tell if it was entertaining or scary, not scary because the scene was too much for him, but scary because he was in the middle of it.

he wanted to make a run for it, but didn't make it. Didn't work. Too many things happening right now.

Ink falling down from his forehead, stress.

He just needs to wait until things calm down a bit, or too many people die until it's enough and the massacre stops.

he's almost glad he's in the middle of this and witnessing it, as he can learn new things from the new guests and adapt.

the two dishes have a long reach weapon, yes, fingers but they shoot bullets and a variety of it.

Could break their hands all together.

The cat is mostly relying on the bag and physical fight, the bag gives him everything apparently. Tricky and just needs to see if that bag can even be damaged.

the girl uses some kind of spells. She is fragile so she hopes those small and quick spells she can do without messing up are enough,

Meaning she is the easiest one.

on the other hand we have what used to be people dragging themselves around, hungry. Mad. In both senses.

And he's still stuck like this.

But after what felt like an eternity the fire stops, the screams and moans of pain stop, the ink slowly melting and dripping from whatever surface it's on.

blood is mixed with ink, minor injuries, maybe some are more severe.

The guests are covered in ink, some were close to be consumed by it completely.

They work the same as the rest. They are all victims of the same rules. they are just smarter and sane enough to actually try and survive instead of throwing yourself into some suicidal mission and wait to come back, again, and die, again, and come back, over and over, losing yourself the more it happens.

Sammy on the floor, obviously alive, just not able to fight anymore. that guy is hard to beat, he can tell you by experience. Some firey bullets won't do much.

Hopefully won't start a fire, they already have enough problems as it is.

a cough, multiple coughs. A whole coughing fit that sounded like someone just got out from the dark puddles, they all do it anyway, they all need to breathe still apparently.

Or it just sounds like someone whose lungs are merely an accessory instead of functional now.

the second one fits better.

"You okay, bro?" the one with the scarf as long as Alice angel's hair, even more, asks. Placing a hand behind the other's back and rubbing it.

"I-im good. I'm good." and a few curses.

What a nitwit. you're not fine. Why does he keep lying about that? Does he think he's cool or a hero if he does that?

What a joke.

"Where's bendy?" here, but he doesn't wanna be.

"Under a table, he's fine.." taking a few breaths in, glancing at the demon..kind of suspiciously but it was just a glance, the feeling went away almost immediately.

"Who even were they?" She asked. Tired. She didn't even move, why is she tired? All the work was from the rest of the group and her silly spells.

"I don't know, tree princess. Some weirdos."

"covered in ink.."

"Some didn't even look like a person though! They.. it's like they were made of ink!" they say the truth, yet they keep denying it once they say the rest of the words.

"Yeah. this place is dangerous. We need to go." a joy in this torment of a studio?

"But boris-"

"SCREW BORIS! We can't even save him anymore! He's cussing dead! I saw him cut open earlier! There's no one else to save! There's nothing to save him! So let's just get bendy out from under the table and go!" the tallest cup shouted. Ouch. and he snapped as well.

Amusing at best, but honestly, he doesn't care.

"..what?"

"Bori- you...you knew? You knew?! You knew Boris was here- and- and you didn't say anything until now?! You- y- Boris is dead and- and-"

"I couldn't do anything about it! he was already like this when I found him!"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER! Boris is-you could've-! I-" Tears and a mix of emotions that can't be fully described.

Tears from a girl, ugly crying without any shame. She doesn't have time for that, as she's busy crying over a stranger with the face of someone she knew.

silence, grieving silence.

"...bendy, look. I-..I wanted to tell you, but-" finally, the one who broke this news to everyone spoke, voice so soft and empathetic it was weird seeing him talk like that.

but he wasn't talking to no one anyway, there was no one there.

"...bendy?"

[brawltogethernow]

Who is your least favorite spider-man writer and artist and your most favorite artist and writer of spider-man?

Picking favorites feels surprisingly tricky, not because I can't but because Buscema edges out Romita on art but Conway edges out DeMatteis on writing (by dint of spending thirty straight years + 20 more off and on kicking my ass and how when he falls on his ass it remains fun for me), and these names next to each other are nothing. This is a stupid combination. Really highlights how superhero comics are made by teams and a single dude cannot guarantee quality if they're not vibing with the rest of the carpool. But if I'm picking a team the seventies beats the nineties, and it's sooo disingenuous to try to narrow down one pair of names when that era was Lee/Romita bleeding into Lee/Conway/Romita into Conway/Romita/Kane, also every few issues Mooney dips in to push the Peter having pretty eyelashes agenda and then leaves. Like some of the best art in this era had Kane doing pencils and Romita inking, and I like their combined style more than Romita penciling his own work if we're talking the period where he was still a full time illustrator, but I midkey dislike Kane's pencils inked by everybody else. I looked up who was illustrating 90's Web with Conway on scripts and it turns out the art I like best is a penciler and inker team and the quality takes a dive whenever either of them takes a month off and leaves the other one in a substitute's hands. You know! Team efforts! Anyway here are some iconic combinations in no order cherry picked to cut out overlap and sneak more people in.

Yes Please:

DeMatteis/Buscema

SSM #180

There's a rhythm to this team's work I've full stop never seen anywhere else.

Lee/Romita

ASM #83

The Vibe.

Conway/Andru

ASM #145

The number of times Gerry Conway has kicked my ass. u_u With Romita Sr. and Andru the most distinctive art trait is the faces - Andru's were never as doll-perfect as Romita's, and that's kind of the best thing about them?

Now guys I hate on the other hand. Way less complex. Debated whether to answer this because I try not to go on about who in the industry sucks at their job but this is not because I couldn't.

Please No:

Spencer/Otley

ASM (2018) #30

It should have been difficult to outdo the preceding run, but writing that was simultaneously nonsensical and insulting, deflated pacing where each issue achieved about as much as a single newspaper strip, a teeth-first art style where every face sports a pained grimace and the meandering composition always scores a D-, and the finishing touch of colors that I can only describe as Averaging Out to Oatmeal...combined to create some of the worst comics I've ever seen. Spencer and I appreciate so many of the same comics and his understanding of what makes them good is so poor that it's almost like receiving a personalized hate letter.

Slott/anybody

ASM #546

He can write well which just makes it worse. I don't even know where to start enumerating his crimes. Like do I just pick one anecdote? When there are so many?

Land (the porn trace guy)

Symbiote Spider-Man: Alien Reality #2 but I could have opened anything and found a bad traced yelling face

You know. The guy. Who traces from porn. That guy. He remains gainfully employed despite being known for this. Does he have dirt on an important executive?

Campbell (yes he watermarked the one on the left two separate times AFTER signing it)

ASM (2018) #2 variant, Renew Your Vows #11 variant

If you're distant from the recent comics scene it's hard to convey how omnipresent this guy is. He's like the comic sans of artists. After having the way he draws women ripped to shreds by social media over a decade ago, Campbell doubled down and has since then drawn hundreds of pinups of identical women in invisible high heels making the exact same face. Singlehandedly a huge factor in how people visualize MJ becoming "skinny carrot top with a pointy chin and freckles". He's proud of this.

[oneforthemunny]

Was inspired by a blurb by another blog ( @indouloureux ) about Eddie helping a reader with this scenario and thought it was entertaining: How each Eddie would respond to asking for help about struggling to pull your tampon out.

Modern!Eddie is an absolute simp and does not let her get embarrassed about anything and annoyingly says “It would be my honor🫡”

Mafia!Eddie is unfazed, man has seen more blood than he’d like to admit, but is lightly scolding you for not being careful, “Oh Kitten, need daddy’s help always.”

Older!Eddie is confused as to why you’re asking him, “Bunny, you know I’d do it, but my eyesight is terrible and I’d probably make it worse.”

Cowboy!Eddie would do it with just a small chuckle, “You’re one of a kind, sugar. Let’s get you sorted out.”

Dom!Eddie is slightly weirded out, not because it’s a period or vagina, but that something made for half the population is that tricky to use. “You’d think these scientists would figure something out for once, but noooo.”

Bartender!Eddie would help after you’d explain to him for five minutes that, yes, a tampon can get stuck and that it’s not an indicator of the size of your vagina, “Listen babe, you’re tight as fuck, that’s probably why- Okay fine do you have a better answer?”

Rockstar!Eddie would do it, but him and Nepotism Baby are married with multiple of the girls, so he is laughing. He pretends to think about it for a few minutes while she’s standing in the bathroom doorway mad as ever.

omfg this is a nightmare scenario but also so funny.

modern!eddie is on it!! you're freaking out and he's like "I got you" tries to get her to relax so he can get in there. "baby, I'll get it out, ok? just calm down. you're too tight." all sweet and coaxing. he gets it out eventually.

janitor!eddie would be similar, but she's so embarrassed to ask him. he hears her grunting and crying out in pain in the bathroom, so he's like??? you good?? and you're like frustrated and sobbing and hormonal, and he comes in to see you, foot on the counter mirror in one hand and tweezers in the other. "my tampon got stuck!!!" you wail, and he's ready to go. soothing and shushing so you'll relax, kneels down under you and gets it out.

mafia!eddie would be so unfazed by blood tbh. he's more effected by the hormones of a period than blood, doesn't think it's gross or whatever lame guys say. you get it stuck, and you're in the bath trying to like waterboard, flush it out and he's like??? here, let me. you're like "ed! be careful! don't push it back more!" and he's like I got it. pulls it out easily, like a bullet lol.

older!eddie bless him he's gotta put his readers on bc he can't see shit. wearing one of those headband type things with a light and his bifocals while you're just spread eagle in front of him.

cowboy!eddie is like.... what? not that he's like grossed out like he knows what a period is and it's natural, but he's horrified that... tampons get stuck??? they break???? he's sick at the thought of that. but he'd help you out. he's been inside animals before, unfortunately, so it's nothing he's not used to lmao.

dom!eddie would be in awe about 1) how far they had to go up your cooch 2) it broke?? like you would think they wouldn't want those things to break what the fuck. he's ranting the whole time. "whoever did this should be fucking guillotined because why would you make a shitty- I'm sorry sweetheart, I've almost got it- why would you-" "ed! shut up!" you grit, tears in your eyes. it feels much different that when he's normally inside of you.

bouncer!eddie has you hovering over his face so he can see in and try to get it out. "too tight, baby, I told you. got a grip reaper and look-" "eddie, shut the fuck up. that has nothing to do with this."

rockstar!eddie if it happened pre-babies would be disgusted. he would be gagging and she'd be bitching him out left and right, because he's being a fucking baby. then if it happened post babies and after they were married, he'd be cackling. probably say something gross like "and people wonder if you're still tight after six kids. gonna start telling them about this." "edward, I will fucking kill you. don't you dare tell anyone."

[vidavalor]

Ever since you mentioned Crowley cooking while listening to "Evil Woman" and jiving his hips, this song and this image have been stuck in my head. I have tow follow-up questions: 1. What is he cooking and 2. is Aziraphale going to be the main course or dessert ;-)

Hi @procrastiel! How are ya, babe? Sorry the song is an earworm of the best kind lol. Aziraphale is actually putting Crowley on the menu at this point. Crowley has tried to kick him out of the kitchen once already ("go do your book things") but Aziraphale is now pretending that he's concerned that Crowley's had too much wine to be cooking as an excuse to watch ("three glasses, angel, that's a glass of water for me"). Crowley knows and keeps slapping his hand away from ingredients he's prepping while also handing him stuff to taste. There is a serious possibility, though, that Crowley might not finish the dish if Aziraphale keeps sampling and making the little sounds in front of him so he's tossed a little bunch of grapes and some manchego on a plate and sent Aziraphale to his desk with it until dinner is ready.

Crowley is making Ina Garten's Fresh Crab and Pea Saffron Risotto. Naturally, this is slightly doctored to his and his angel's tastes. Aziraphale is the amateur baker because the preciseness gives him comfort but Crowley is the cook because you can experiment and just add more stuff to the pot without the whole thing exploding. Usually. There was that one time he set the kitchen on fire that caused them to use four of the fire extinguishers, Crowley to have a panic attack, and for the Chinese takeaway people to make a small fortune that night. Other than that, starting cooking more again has been a success.

That mainly means that this dish is a little herbier and a little boozier than the recipe but is otherwise the same. Crowley watches Barefoot Contessa when he can't sleep (this is what he tells himself and Aziraphale but, really, he just watches it lol) because as much as he always bitches about Aziraphale needing a soft show (which Aziraphale insists are called "cozy shows") to balance out anything more intense, Crowley does, too. He loves this rich American woman who appears to do nothing but live in this nice gaff with a massive kitchen garden and make up new dishes for her husband to try. She's living Crowley's dream over here. He is currently on Season 17.

Crowley managed to get Aziraphale to pivot to his secret cooking show by a) admitting that he secretly watches a cooking show and b) by hinting that more frequent cooking might be the results if they watched said cooking show. It's been a long pandemic, yeah? and he could not watch the new All Creatures Great & Small for a fourth time, no matter how much Aziraphale insisted it would be fun. (And even if Crowley very reluctantly confessed, while completely smashed one night, that he was, in fact, crying during that episode in which Tricki Woo was in danger. And, also, that Siegfried can get it.) In truth, he'd watch anything on the television they magic in and out of the living room because it's all just an excuse to cuddle on the couch with Aziraphale but he's not about to admit to that. Or remotely use the word 'cuddling' or anything like it, of course.

[aibouart]

I hope this isn't a weird ask to send but:

I related really heavily to your post about what vent art has done for your psyche. Less specifically with vent art and more a vent blog where I privated the whole thing and would make unrebloggable vent posts (unrebloggable just in case if anything broke and slipped out of confinement)

I've had two of those kinds of blogs. Both ended up just being a negative confirmation bias zone for me to spiral out of control just if I looked at a post.

I'd see the timestamps and remember what made me make those posts and it'd make me lose myself all over again.

The second time I made the blog I told myself I wouldn't read back on the posts but 1) I cannot hold myself accountable to not do that so I did it and 2) the frequency of the vents ended up just achieving the same end result

Vent art for me is so much more work that it's rare, and I usually do end up very pleased with the end result and art typically helps more bc I can't just make art as quickly as I can make text posts. There's still some vent art that hurts like hell to look back on ofc but I understand that feeling of like...this art coming from someplace real.

I think learning to realize that drawing stuff without meaning can hold a meaning of its own (sharing joy, whimsy, etc etc with the world to remind ppl it's not all bad, or give them a safe place to indulge in something bright and colorful instead of the horrors of whatever reality they've currently got) can help ease into accepting the non-vent art as just as important and meaningful

It's tricky, but all of us who suffer more from our own vent posts/vent art can heal and move forward and find meaning in other expressions of other feelings.

Vent stuff can be such a powerful tool, so I'm glad you're learning how to be more careful with it. I wish you nothing but upward momentum from here!

thank you for the message, it does mean a lot to me to find others who went through something as similar that i did--even though it fuckin SUUUCKS

for me, ig my speedy art backfires with vent art. i have done pieces that i took (more) time with:

but for the most part it looked like this:

and they'd get posted within like 10 mins of each other (sometimes less)

i definitely think art doesn't need meaning to exist, but you spend so long hearing "what do you think the meaning behind this is" or making art like i had been doing that DID hold some meaning and i started to just feel like my own work was exempt.

it's hard to move past vent art and accept my work as worthy of existing even if it's just some pink furry staring at the camera doing nothing, instead of my sona ripping itself apart because of some deeper meaning. cuz like i do like my vent art, i think the limited colours i would use is cool and the compositions or expressions are intriguing, but getting into the headspace to draw all that just isn't worth the price anymore. but it sort of makes my current art feel shallow or empty.... like im not "trying", for sure.

and granted majority of people on this blog haven't even seen my vent art either it's not like anyone else's perception is skewed. it's just like a personal issue i've had as i recover from vent art/blogs WUURGG

but despite all that i draw what i want anyways, nothing can really stop me from doing that. i just kind of ruminate the whole time JKBSDBFBSD

thank you again for reaching out, i forgot i made the post when i woke up this morning and immediately panicked but nothing bad happened so i am feeling ok about sharing..!!