Thank you so much for all of your lovely messages about enjoying the stories, and checking in on me due to the radio silence. You’re all so caring and inspiring, it warms my cold withered heart. :) A message saying someone’s enjoying a story I wrote brightens my day, every time.
Updates will be starting up again shortly..!! Exciting. in the mean time, why not send me a message if you have a request for your next monster boyfriend
I got inspired by @monsterboysmooches‘s art and decided to doodle a thing! I love your writing btw!! <3
Look at our spooky boy! I love this so much. New chapter should be tonight.
[As requested by a reader]
The appeal of the cabin had been twofold: nature was meant to be good for the soul, and with any luck the complete lack of any non-chickens-and-trees stimulus could bore a novel out of your thus far uncooperative brain. The parents had seemed happy enough to subsidise your stay in order to have you stop wandering their house in the wee hours of the morning - they’d been very supportive of your creative endeavours, fruitless though they had been so far. You were lucky enough to be staying for free (thanks, dad) and had even been sent along with enough tinned and pickled produce to last for weeks: you had no excuse to leave, but you were starting to sorely regret not bringing a book. There was a kind of nervous tension about you that you couldn’t seem to shake, and it was making it nigh impossible to focus on an idea. You had a creeping suspicion it might have something to do with the dark trees leering in at you at all hours of the day.
Lil Friday doodle whilst plotting the next chapter
Me, already four posts deep into the Friday series: (suddenly drops doughnut) I should have posted new chapters on Fridays
When consciousness tugged at you the next morning, you knew you were heavily bruised before you even opened your eyes. Your hip thrummed with pain where it had hit the floor and you had a headache which felt like it was caused by a literal crack in your skull. You groaned into your pillow in remembrance of your awful night, but when you reached a hand to touch your chest warm relief washed over you as you found it dry, no longer oozing blood from the week before’s puncture wounds. You’d take bruising over constant bleeding, so you were counting the night before as a win.
Surprisingly, it was shaping up to be the best week of your life. Immediately after you’d completed the task of lugging Friday’s gift back from the hotel to your home (seven trips, with two suitcases), you’d curled up on the sofa and set about penning your resignation email with some gusto. After five drafts with an increasingly pithy and resentful tone and about an hour basking in the glow of your screen, you deleted everything you’d written and settled on:
“Apologies for the short notice, but due to dire family circumstances I must resign effective immediately. Reviewing my latest signed contract, I am not obliged to give a notice period, though I would have preferred to do so. Best of luck in the future.”
You were frozen in horror as the huge dark creature emerged the wardrobe and turned its flat face towards you, piercing white eyes fixed on the glowing phone in your trembling hands.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” The operator called out to you, but you knew it was already too late for help.
The thing seemed to absorb any light which touched it, all you could make out in the darkened room was a silhouette and that was bad enough. It was tall and lithe, it had a mane around its head and shoulders, and curved horns like a ram. The only thing which pierced its darkness was its bright white blank eyes. It had six… limbs? And seemed to be standing on two of them. Its proportions were all wrong.
Moving cities and working nights had pretty much destroyed your social life. Every week, you spent your days off sitting around the house in your pyjamas eating copious amounts of beige snack food whilst watching hour after hour of elaborate cooking videos on YouTube. It wasn’t the life of glitz and glamour you’d imagined when you moved, but it was certainly comfortable. Plus, working nights was actually paying you well enough to live on your own, which was a luxury you relished in your every waking moment. You loved the peace of living by yourself; you loved putting something down and knowing exactly where to find it the next day, undisturbed, untidied, just waiting for you.
Solitude was your natural habitat.
You awoke the next morning to the smell of cooking sausages and grinned into your pillow. Stretching and groaning quietly with happiness as you felt the sleep-knotted muscles in your shoulders and lower back unravel.
“My mistress awakens at last.” Came the happy croon from the room beyond your bed and you laughed, the absurdity of having a massive orc cooking you breakfast and wooing you with jars of pickles hitting you in that moment.
“G’morning.” You greeted, and were surprised to see Murag’s face peek around the side of the bookcase at you.
“May I come in?”
