#if so i’m surprised i haven’t seen talk about it tho lol

[prettybbychim]

finished the first part of the scions tribal stories and is that… an enjou i spy? perhaps? 👀👀

[akkivee]

so i heard the stage did a retelling of every division’s get together story!!!! i wonder if you would consider that a reboot of the stage lol

[wooimbouttamakeanameformyself]

Okay listen hoes.

I’ve been surfing these anti Danneel, anti Jenneel, anti this and anti that tags for like… over a year. I’ve always been watching from the sidelines with my lil bag of popcorn, given an anon ask every now and again to other blogs, but never bothered to make a post about it. Because I didn’t think it was relevant, correction, I didn’t think Elta was relevant enough to make a venting post about — which is why I’m baffled as to why she even has stans — but also I just figured in the long run, none of our speculations, opinions or posts about this lady mean anything to anyone.

Actually, I may be incorrect there, as the AA’s may butcher me, or worse… Danneel may get Cliff to make another post… sheesh!

But anyway, seeing this latest Wales con, I got a real bad case of FOMO and decided I wanna bitch on tumblr as well (no hate to the bitches, I love scrolling through everyone bitching about the ‘perfect’ couple)

Here’s my take on everything, even tho no one asked:

Yes, it is painfully, horribly, excruciatingly obvious that those two don’t even like each other let alone love each other.

But I’ve seen some people and blogs talk about Danneel physically abuse Jensen, which I just don’t personally believe — each to their own opinion, though — but I just personally haven’t seen any evidence or receipts of that being true. Emotional abuse, yes, verbal abuse, definitely. But physical is something I ain’t gonna say I think is happening.

Danneel’s a bitch, as we all know, as the stans like to pretend isn’t true. But I really don’t think Jensen’s a saint or a victim — and I say he isn’t a victim only because in the end, looking over the financial consequences and the custody of the kids thing that would come with a divorce, she has little hold over him. He has the fame, the money, and what do you wanna bet that all of the Elta followers would do a 180 on their ‘Kween’ if Jensen ever spoke up about anything? And by no means am I suggesting that men can’t be victims before anyone jumps down my throat, I’m just saying that Jensen has the capability to fight back to her or leave her if he wanted to.

But he won’t, because — and I’m bracing myself for the hate I’ll get for this — he’s also kind of a narcissist and a liar!!! 😱😱😱 surprised I’m still writing and wasn’t just assassinated on the spot for saying that lols! Dare I say… he’s just as bad as Danneel in some aspects? That he has pretty privilege? Though not so much anymore since he and Danneel have clearly started doing couples Botox sessions. Wooof I’m really pushing my luck.

Trailed off a lil there, but what I was supposed to say is that he won’t because he’s embedded some kind of belief into his mind that his career will crash and burn if he doesn’t have his perfect ‘family man’ image. Even though let’s be honest about two things, your marriage is probably doing more harm than good to your image, and buddy, you’re a c-list actor who’s acting range is zero to none — I mean, he couldn’t stand playing anyone other than Dean Winchester that he tried, and failed, to make a spin off of Supernatural just so he got to play a brooding, macho hunter again. Though look how that turned out — your career isn’t some sacred artefact that can’t dare even be scratched, all he does these days is make money from cons, and a very occasional cameo playing as Dean in a different font. I’m worried the dude has Foreign Accent Syndrome but with Dean Winchester — as in he’s done it for that long that its irreversibly in his consciousness, to the point Danneel has to tell him to stop being Dean at home (sure she got a dig out of him mentioning that in the panel)

But I’m trying to focus talking about this con so far — even though I’ve trailed off multiple times already — first of all, ignoring the fact it’s insane that Danneel’s even at a Suoernatural con when her character (which was a nepotism role) wasn’t even in a full season, served no purpose, wasn’t even a likeable character — unless you like vapid, vain, and poorly portrayed characters — and added nothing to the storyline. And yet she gets treated like she’s a main cast member? Half of Dean’s flings who were in half an episode served more to the plot that Anael did in the whole five episodes she was on the show! And it pissed me off that Danneel’s getting the sort of treatment of main cast when Gen’s character was actually important to the plot, yet she wasn’t at the con. Not that I think Gen’s that bothered, which shows the difference between her and Danneel.

And apparently she auditioned for every single female role??? HUH?? Are we talking about the same Ms Gurl who made fun of Supernatural in the earlier seasons, claimed to not wanting to interfere as it was Jensen’s thing, demeaned and made fun of fans on twitter, criticised her own husband’s role and showed doubt of the series duration??? Make it make sense.

I’m kind of relieved Jensen hasn’t shared any of his made up domestic stories of them, to try and make it seem like they can even stand each other, although it would’ve been interesting to see him talk about it with Danneel there — just to see her reaction, cause I’m certain Jensen just makes up these stories as he goes along. But I guess my guy couldn’t even manage that, probably not after how much Elta knocked him down in front of everyone — she barely did anything else other than make jabs at him the whole time. Surprised my girl didn’t go blue from all the snarky remarks she was making.

Oh wait, it’s ‘sarcasm’, right? Silly me, I forgot that ‘that’s how they are with each other’ 😐😐😐 even AA’s have spoke up about her behaviour in this con — shows how much effort those two are bothering putting in to keep up the image. But hey, I’m proud that some of the delusional Jenneel shippers have developed a frontal lobe, probably because their self-insert isn’t doing what they want her to be doing!

Anyway that’s all from me, my thumbs hurt, can’t believe I wrote so much. Free will is a crazy thing. Excited to see what kind of hate I get from this ✌️😝

This ain’t grammar checked before anyone bullies me.

[adorkablenerd]

How To Defeat MC

(Or how to Defeat The Great Mammon p.2 lol)

Bruh I haven’t posted any fics in so long, I’m so sorry y’all 😭 I’m trying to get back into the habit of writing again tho!  I hope y’all like it and I’m also gonna put the link to the first one of these right below this!

1st part

Mammon x MC (Gender neutral)

Words: 1372

MC couldn’t help but feel like Mammon was plotting something.  They had been a bit on edge ever since Mammon declared he would get his revenge on them.  That was over a week ago, and he hadn’t made any attempts yet. It’s not like MC had avoided him either, as they had still been hanging out regularly.  MC couldn’t tell when he was going to attack, but they started wishing he would just get it over with.  This was all they could think about as they were sitting on the couch next to the demon, watching a movie in his room.  

“Oi, MC!”  They jumped hearing Mammon's voice call out to them.  They realized that they had been spacing out for a good few minutes and didn’t even hear the first couple times he said their name.

“Y-Yeah?”  They looked over to the demon on the other side of the couch.

“Could you pass the popcorn, it’s on your side.”  MC looked down to the popcorn bag next to their leg on the floor.

“Oh, sure. Here.”  They handed it to him and tried to focus on the movie, but couldn’t help but get lost in their thoughts again.  They almost jumped again when Mammon’s hand touched their forehead, pressing themselves to the back of the couch in surprise when they realized how close he was.  

“Are you feeling okay?  Your face seems kinda red and you’ve been acting so jumpy lately?”  The genuine concern in his voice made them feel a bit bad for making him worry.

“Don’t worry Mams, I’m fine, just… thinking about the essay we have due next week.”  They hoped that was believable enough, and by look on the demon’s face, it seemed to be.

“Aaah I see, I wouldn’t worry though, you always ace those, you’ll be fine!”  He smiled and gave them a pat on the head.  MC closed their eyes and leaned into the hand, warm and comforting as always.  What they weren’t expecting was the demon’s other hand to randomly trace under their chin, making them move away from the touch with a quiet squeak.

“M-Mammon?!”  He smirked at their reaction, moving on top of them to pin them onto the couch.

“You didn’t think I forgot about my promise, did ya?”  MC could already feel the giggles building up in their chest, of course they didn't forget, it’s all they had been thinking about for the past week.

“I figured all that waitin’ you made me do, I should return the favor.  That’s the real reason you’ve been so jumpy around me, right?”  As he spoke from his spot sat on top of their thighs, he hovered one hand over their tummy, the other pinning both of their hands down by their wrists, smirking down at them.  Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was, since he was always so gentle with them, but even now he was making sure his grip wasn't too tight.  

“If you knew, thehen why did you bother to ask?”  A small laugh couldn’t help but slip out as they tried to keep some composure, though the little they had was already crumbling.  

“Honestly, just wanted to see what you’d say, I wonder if you would’ve just asked for it if I waited a bit longer?  Guess you’re lucky The Great Mammon is super generous and won’t make you wait any longer.”  

“You just couldn’t wait any more yourself, cohould you?”  This time the laugh wasn’t just out of anticipation, but at the demon himself, always trying to play so cool, but usually just ending up looking too cute for his own good.  Just like now, face slightly flushed, knowing you had seen right through him.  

“Grr just stop talking and laugh already!”  He released their hands and quickly started squeezing their sides, causing them to let out a quick shriek and break into loud giggles.

“Nahahaha Mahahams plehehease!” Even with their hands free, there wasn’t much they could do, settling for holding onto his wrists, despite it doing nothing to deter the demon.

“Please what? Please keep going? Please keep tickling you? I think I can do that for ya.”  He smirked down at them, keeping his hands at their sides, but now scribbling his nails around the area.

“Yohohou knohow thahat’s nahat whahat I meheheant!”  MC felt their face heating up at the teasing and couldn’t help but squirm side to side, trying to dodge his fingers, but failing miserably.  

“Oooh, I’m sorry. You meant please tickle your tummy, didn’t ya?”  He moved his hands to their stomach, still using his nails to lightly scratch all over. 

“Nohohoho Mahahamon!” Mc could barely get out any words through their laughter.  They knew the demon could be merciless from seeing him wreck his brothers, but this was their first time being on the receiving end of one of his attacks, though they couldn’t say it wasn’t deserved.  

“Oh? Still not the right spot? How about your ribs?  Your underarms? Your neck?”  He quickly jumped from spot to spot, pinching their ribs, then spidering under their arms, and now tracing all around their neck.

“Eehehe yohohou’re soho mehehean.”  Both knew that that was a lie, and that if MC ever wanted it to stop, they could make him easily.  They also knew that it wasn’t necessary anyways, and that if asked or if they seemed uncomfortable, Mammon would stop on his own, but neither wanted it to end yet.

“You haven’t seen mean yet, human~”  MC felt a small shiver go down their spine at his tone.  They felt his hands moving down to their hips, one of their worst spots, at the same time his head lowered to their neck.  They closed their eyes, trying to prepare themselves.  After a bit, they realized he hadn’t moved at all, and peeked their eyes open just a bit.  They were greeted by Mammon’s grinning face right in front of theirs.

“Gotcha~”  That was the only warning they got before both of his hands squeezed at their hips and he began blowing raspberries into the side of their neck.  They let out a shriek and quickly broke down into high pitched laughter.

“NAHAHA W-WAHAHAHAIT!  MAHAHAMOHOHON!”  It was hard to think with how much it tickled, but they still couldn’t bring themself to say stop yet.  Mammon stopped the raspberries to allow a little relief and so that he could speak.

“Wait? Wait for what? I thought you’d be sick of waitin’ by now, or does it just tickle too much for ya’?”  MC felt like their face was on fire, it was unfair for him to be this good at both tickling and teasing.  

“SH-SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!”  Despite how bad it was, of course MC had to instigate it even more, it was just too fun to mess with the demon.  

“Tch, how rude, someone clearly wants more tickle tickle tickles then~”  He put his head back into their neck, this time lightly nibbling at the skin.  MC couldn’t help but let out a couple snorts at how tickly the action was.

“OHOKAHAHAY OKAHAHAY, IHI’M SAHAHARRY!”  Mammon took that as the sign to stop, instantly pulling his hands and head away and moving to be next to them rather than on top.

“That’ll teach ya’ to challenge The Great Mammon, remember this next time you plan on attacking me, human.”  Despite his prideful tone, he was keeping a careful eye on how MC was doing, making sure he didn’t go too far and ready to get them whatever they may need.  MC curled into his side, residual giggles still slipping out.

“Ahand you called mehe evil.”  They let out a yawn, feeling the exhaustion kicking in, and started drifting off to sleep, head in Mammon’s lap.

“Y’know, you’re pretty cute like this, all tickled out, I might have to do it more often.”  He smiled down at them, starting to feel pretty sleepy himself.  

“I wouldn’t mind, as long as I get to tickle you too.”  Hearing this, Mammon felt himself getting flustered again, but both were too tired to really care about what they were saying.

“I guess that’d be alright.”  They both had good dreams that night.

[asoftgoth]

I hope these aren't intrusive to ask, but when it comes to your recent hip growth...

A. It's so cute, first of all

B. Do you believe they're growing solely because of HRT, or because of HRT plus you're specifically eating enough to continue gaining during your transition?

And when it comes to your transition in general, if you happen to plan to undergo any sort of gender confirmation surgery, have you already looked into qualifications/patient criteria? I'm not asking because I want to pry about you but because I think my egg is cracking but I'm already about the same size as you and I'm worried that if I even try transitioning, eventually I'll hit a road block at which point if I want to get any relevant surgery, they won't consider me viable unless I lose a lot of weight.

Again, I'm so sorry if this isn't stuff you're comfortable talking about, in which case please don't feel obligated to reply to this at all. I hope you're doing well!

Hey there :) First off im happy to answer pretty much any transition related questions. These are really invasive though and I appreciate you acknowledging that. For everyone that will read this, please don’t expect every trans person you speak with to be willing to open up like this. But with that said here we go:

A: Lol thank you 🥰💕

B: Its such an exciting and scary part of someone’s life when their egg is starting to crack. I remember those days well and I feel for you. But trust me, it gets so much better 💕 And about your questions, my hip growth is because of HRT mainly, and the fact that I have an overall decent diet. That’s pretty much it. And the diet aspect is important, when you transition your body is undergoing a massive transformation and it needs energy to help it along. My actual diet is for another post maybe, (it’s not anything special tho) but I’m not “actively gaining” and haven’t been since I started HRT, believe it or not! It might surprise some people but I’ve actually lost weight even though I’ve added about 3 inches to my hips since starting almost 9 months ago. Almost all of the weight I’ve lost (about 40lbs) has been from muscle loss throught my body. Plus I’ve also lost a ton of visceral fat from my waist(yay), and gained lots of subcutaneous fat in my ass and thighs (also yay). That’s not to mention my chest which is *really* growing a ton, and fast too. I’d say im really lucky with how my proportions are filling out, but it’s a long process and im extremely grateful. Transitioning definitely isn’t over night tho and as much as this sucks, it’s a genetic roll of the dice for what your proportions will look like. Transitioning takes a lot of bravery, and I don’t say that lightly.

With all that said, yes I do have some surgeries in mind that I want and plan on getting in the next few years. I don’t want bottom surgery, but if I did then my size would be an issue. There are strict BMI limitations for getting a vaginoplasty. It fucking sucks but that’s just the reality of things in 2023. Simpler surgeries like getting an orchi don’t have those requirements and that’s one thing I plan on getting fairly soon. Another one is FFS. I’ve actually talked with a few surgeons already who do FFS and some have BMI requirements and others don’t. The ones that don’t unfortunately may cost a bit more from what I’ve seen. (But they do have more experience too). For implants and things like that, I don’t know, I haven’t researched boob jobs specifically but I can’t imagine BMI would be an issue there. I know it isn’t for fat injections in your butt/hips.

One last thing too that I wanna make clear, because a lot of people might read this. You don’t have to actually take any medicine or have any procedures done to be transgender 💕 Medically transitioning is something that helps so many of us and is absolutely necessary for (I would say) most trans people, (it 100% saved my life, I wouldn’t be here without it). But not all, and it doesn’t define your transness whether or not you’ve taken ~this~ medicine or had ~that~ surgery. I was just as much a woman as I am now for the year before I started HRT when I knew I was trans. And I was just as much a girl when I was born. I’ve been a woman all my life, it just took a little while for me to figure myself out haha. Just trust your gut and make healthy decisions. I put off the whole “deliberately gaining” thing while my body is going through all this change. And I personally feel like im better off for it. However I’m working out and eating to help grow my lower half, so I guess you could say my gaining journey isn’t over, it’s just changed. But anyway, I hope this helps you and anyone who reads this, sorry it was so long lol. If you have any other questions don’t hesitate to ask, and my inbox is always open too 🖤

[ca-suffit]

warning for potential book/future show spoilers idk??

so based on what sam said in this new interview, it seems like they’re kinda going down the route of lestat being unable to control his violent tendencies because a lot of his rage comes from having akasha’s blood in him. i think he called it like a “monstrous source” of his rage/violence and said they even cut lines alluding to it in the drop scene. i haven’t read the books and was wondering if you had any thoughts. i’ve never seen any theories about it but i’m kind of wondering whether that’s what a s3 revisit of the 1x05 fight would explore. if it turns out the lestat physically couldn’t control himself then that seems to absolve him a bit and idk if the show would do that? especially after his apology monologue in the new ep. or maybe it’s less literal like just bc he struggled with self control doesn’t mean he wasn’t ultimately able to and chose not to anyway. idk if this makes sense, i was actually surprised sam talked about this as it seems a bit spoilery and it feels like potentially a big twist about lestat’s perspective on things.

I won't spell out the spoilers here (to be considerate to everyone) but I do know what he's talking about and it's a couple of things. u must have the gatekeeping book ppl blocked bcuz they've been talking about this and are doing it again rn lol. half of it is bcuz they are already heavily leaning into fully excusing him still. bcuz of courseeeee they are!!!! I need a bingo card for this shit. but anyway.

I feel p confident the show is not going to excuse anything. they've already been confirming what happened and u can't rly walk that back. did they give louis an excuse when his vampiric powers made him kick the whole door in on his family's house? even if lestat wants to say he felt something was out of control inside of him, they were basically married and living together with a child for however many years by that point. that's something u can confide to ur spouse by then if ur trying to do anything "right." u don't sit on it for decades and not let anyone know. the lestans will use any excuse forever if they want to, but even if u took that route of saying he wasn't able to control something, he should have communicated that before this point. it changes nothing. we saw how louis struggled to explain why he didn't know about the cloud gift until that moment in S1.

I was a little surprised he talked about it too but....these were sort of his theories, mainly? he doesn't know what they're going to write and who knows if these were his own headcanons or real shit they've talked about exploring on the show (I don't remember all his exact phrasing now). I wouldn't worry about the show excusing him tho, I don't think that's going to happen. There might be a discussion him and Louis have later, in reflection, but there's nothing that can just fully excuse that drop for any reason. and they've already owned up to it in canon.

[mando-abs]

Alright after almost having an irrational breakdown over whether or not I’ll see Spiderverse spoilers, I went to go see it

And since @psychedelic-ink wants to talk about it with someone, here are my notes :)

Spoilers below the cut, proceed with caution

My sibling said they knew of a cameo and I thought it was gonna just be J.K. Simmons as J Jonah Jameson (in two universes)

I was surprised that Gwen took up the intro. But I’m not mad about it, just unexpected. Which is exactly what she said “let’s do this differently”

THE RENAISSANCE VULTURE AHHHH so cool. Loved how the style clashed with the rest of the universe

Miles’ mom’s Spanglish is no joke. She would change mid sentence (mid- word???) my (limited) Spanish class knowledge can’t keep up 😭😭😭😭New respect for the Spanglish kids having to decode their parents all the time

Also was Miles’ roommate playing the Spiderman PS2 game? Like the controller was new but I swear it looked like the PS2 game. I understand the new Spiderman PS4 and PA5 game is popular rn so I’d get if it was that instead. I’m just not as familiar with that

I thought from the trailer that the spot was going to be a minor villain and they weren’t gonna show the main villain. But I like how they made him a genuine threat. He’s still a nerd tho

WHEN GWEN’S FATHER TRIED TO ARREST HER OMG. A cop’s a cop

Pavitr is so 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 I love him

His hair is that luscious bc of shampoo and genetics lol. I get that a lot with my complexion. Never had any publicly visible acne, and yes I love flaunting that fact at least once a year so. This is the one

I thought “wouldn’t it be messed up if they reversed this a killed the captain anyways?�� And I’m so glad they didn’t. Please let Pavitr continue to be the golden child. He deserves it

AND HOBIE!!!! He hates the AM and the PM (prime minister) lol. The comedic relief we didn’t know we needed. Also he is super hot. Is he a teenager tho? Hold on. Still don’t know. I’m not about to swoon over a teen but he looks over 18 and I have a soft spot for punk guys 😌😌😌😌

Hobie and Mayday is the best pair and they only had a few seconds together. Sad

ALSO, only critique, I was severely lacking in Mayday content. I would like to see the baby. Give me more Mayday

Does this make Miles Mayday’s godfather? Cause I hope so.

DONALD GLOVER AHHHHHHHHHHH

Donald as the big cameo was the best. I audibly gasped. Our hero. Thank you for sparking Miles Morales

Of course I loved the other Sony Peters.

Also I didn’t realize that was PS4 Peter saying “are you talking to me?” during the video game characters in prison. I thought it was Miles

ALSO WAS THE SPECTACULAR SPIDERMAN TALKING TO (I believe) MILES BECAUSE IT LOOKED LIKE IT

Oh! How could I forget the Lego Peter Parker ❤️❤️❤️ I cackled that Miguel said Lego Peter did some of the best work. Like hell yeah he did. Legos don’t mess around 😂

ALSO DID YOU KNOW THE LEGO SEQUENCES WERE ANIMATED BY A 14 YEAR OLD???? Crazy

Moose-teriyo

I know Miguel is trying to to save a whole universe and doing it for the greater good but holy cow man. He’s a child. It’s his dad you’re talking about. He’s not gonna be rational, and don’t ever expect him to. I wouldn’t. Like I don’t care, I just want my dad to be alright.

Also what is his beef with Peter B. Parker? I feel like there’s more there

Miguel’s backstory hurt tho. No wonder he’s traumatized. I’d become the antagonist too (not villain - just the person that gets in the way of the protagonist)

Also who’s the daddy of Jessica’s baby? We only got glimpses of her backstory. Like did she remove herself from the baby daddy? Did he die? Is Miguel the dad? I doubt it but I’m just nosey. I need her specific trauma gimmie gimmie. Jessica having a soft spot for Gwen. Women protecting women. Gotta love it

Is this the first movie to incorporate footnotes? I feel like it is. It’s certainly the first one I’ve seen. Also “I haven’t got a Scooby Doo” is a phenomenal phrase. And I’m so disappointed that the Brits use it and not us. Like, come on. We’re Scooby Doo capital of the world. Every American loves Scooby Doo.

Okay, Miles being an anomaly was a great twist. But wouldn’t his world collapse then? Wouldn’t Earth 42 collapse? Wouldn’t Miles glitch more? If Mike’s was never meant to be Spiderman than why is the multiverse not already erasing itself?

I think Miles and his universe is the key to restoring other universes, especially the ones where the holes were contained.

PROWLER MILES AHHHHHHH

I kinda knew he’d get stuck in a dimension tho with the “don’t get lost” line from mom. But I didn’t expect a world without Spiderman! So cool.

[shakapuffin]

Alert episode 4 promo!

Alert 1x03 “Zoey” Review

my thoughts on the lastest episode, episode 3 “Zoey”

- i liked it as much as, if not a bit more, than the first two episodes… still some obvious questions and hiccups. idk why but this episode seemed a bit more structured… maybe it was because C wasn’t there lol!

- i still want to find out more about Keith, like i know they’re gonna drag his whole storyline out but how do we still not know anything about where he’s been the past 6 years?! or better yet how does no one else question him harder on where he was. i get that jason tried to talk to him in the beginning but i want to see a full on convo, not just a few minutes. i want to see more scenes with the whole family together, interacting. idk that’s probably just me tho.

- i totally understand why Sydney wanted a lock on her door, but I didn’t understand why Nikki thought it was weird. I’m happy Jason wanted her to have one if she felt safer, but it made no sense for Nikki to say no since it’s her daughter and she hasn’t seen her supposed brother in six years. it still confuses me why they haven’t taken Keith to a hospital or a therapist to get checked out, especially because they’re law enforcement officers and they deal with missing persons and it’s consequences every day.  Also, I get that they want Keith to be back in school to get back o normal but I’m still not sure how long has it been since he’s been found. If it’s been a couple of weeks or even a month or two, then I understand but if it’s only been a week or two, I don’t know why they want him to rush into school that quickly. It’s just crazy to me that the parents are already back at work and I assume Keith is left home alone? I also really liked the use of Beowulf in the underlined narrative of that story between Sydney and Keith. it added another interesting layer.

- I’m sorry but the whole scene between Nikki and Mike doing a quickie in the supply closet was just so weird to me. Like why was there a need to put that into the episode, like I get that it’ll add characterization for Nikki and Mike and it’s a good way for them to reconnect, but not at work in the middle of a missing persons case where the girl could very well either be dead, or about to die. No law-enforcement officials would ever ever do that on a workday. It doesn’t matter if Nikki is the head of the missing persons unit, Zoey’s parents put their trust in her and even if there was a few extra minutes they could’ve been doing other things to progress the case besides that. Also, they only had 10 minutes! Really really odd writing choice. save that for the end or beginning of the episode when there’s no life or death situation.

- okay so I’m really confused on Kemi. She literally offered to rub eggs on Zoe’s parents to catch all the vibes/feelings? I’m still confused what happened like I just don’t understand. I saw her purpose on the team a little bit more in this episode, she’s really good at breaking down pictures and finding where they are located. I just don’t understand some of her references, like who is she? haha! Apparently she’s been married 12 times? Sometimes some of the things she says are just so out of pocket it’s insane and it doesn’t relate to the case whatsoever.

- I thought the structure was better this episode with a few blips but overall a bit of an improvement from the first two. That being said, I thought this weeks missing persons case was very dark, creepy and low-key disturbing. I get it stuff like this can happen, but it was pretty surprising for that subject matter to be on a network television show. Overall, I think the case made sense in terms of storytelling maybe a few improvements on the shallow dialogue at the end and throughout, but that’s it.

- now that i know the parents had keith’s baby hair in the baby book, they should’ve had a DNA test right when he got home. i get that they don’t want keith to think they don’t trust him but they just have to do it, especially when they’re daughter is repeatedly telling them she doesn’t feel safe. they are law enforcement, they know the importance of a DNA test. it’s weird that they’re avoiding it.

- I thought Scott Caan was really good this week, per usual, i liked his literal leap into action to tackle the creepy guy away from Zoey. dania ramirez was good too, i like her catchphrase of ‘finding our babies’ but i hope nikki doesn’t overuse it because it can become old very fast. i liked adeola role, her character continues to confuse me but she’s great, as well as ryan broussard!

anyways that’s just my opinion for the week! i’m excited for the next episode, the promo looks good! still happy that scott’s back on the screen! what did you guys think? let me know, i luv talking!!

[savedpeople]

I haven’t talked much about dead city for the last couple weeks, but here’s some thoughts on tonight’s episode all in one place instead of making separate posts as we go. As usual, spoilers ahead:

SAVIOR NEGAN MY BELOVED. Legit got emotional seeing Lucille again. Savior Negan’s mustache hurts my soul a little but idc he still looks Good. but also gives the possibility of him and Simon having semi-matching mustaches at one point which is extremely funny

Negan designing the walker fence, maybe? That’s kind of what that looked like. If it was, then the walker fence was a relatively new thing when we saw it in the main show, since he already has the Kingdom working for him at this point.

Good to see Simon’s arms have doubled in size since we last saw him, jfc. But seriously, I had the Simon cameo spoiled a while ago but it was so cool to see him again

I love that Neegs is a canon nickname for Negan now lol. How long has the fandom been using that, especially the comic fandom?

Negan wearing two gloves in the flashback implies he either 1. lost a glove at some point, or 2. decided to start only wearing one for The Aesthetic. I’m gonna go with the second option lmao

The hall/room we saw during the flashback scene with the croat is in the sanctuary but isn’t a space we’ve seen before. the basement, maybe? i never considered the factory might have a basement. was way too big to be one of the cells we saw in the main show.

glad they confirmed the croat didn’t “just” kill the kid, but tortured her.

Simon being all “KIDS is a line we don’t cross, we all know that” is hilarious given the entire Oceanside situation. Big possibility is the writers just kinda... forgot about that (especially if they didn’t write for the main how, idk who the writers are), but my in-universe explanation is going to be that Simon is big time sucking up to Negan after being given a second chance. Make him believe he believes that. etc.

Anyone else think the Croat lowkey looks like Simon?? A little bit?? might just be certain facial expressions

Y’all had the opportunity to make my stupid harmonica headcanon canon and and you DIDN’T DO IT. but it’s not not canon, either.

Please not the miscommunication, “if you’d just let me explain” trope. We only have two episodes left there’s not enough time for that

It’s not important but I wonder what the Croat’s real name is

Now why was Croat’s reaction to hearing Negan’s whistle/seeing him again kinda cute

Why do I kind of like the Croat. Only a tiny bit tho

NegaAAAAN

I actually really do like this group Negan and Maggie are with, especially Tommaso and Amaia and the scavenger lady. I forgot her name.

Aaaand that was scavenger lady that just died, wasn’t it

Tommaso definitely got bit, there’s no way he got out of that unscathed 

DID MAGGIE BURN THE DINO PLUSH OR NOT. i’m gonna guess the way ginny’s looking at her + her “i have to tell you something” to Negan is implying she did?

Perhaps I’m stupid but why did the Croat send all those walkers into the arena? Did he know our group was coming? edit: the preview for next ep suggests he did

“Where’s Lucille?” “She’s gone.” 😭😭😭

Did I just add Jerome to my Excel sheet of Saviors? Yes. This tells us that the Croat’s not the only ex-Savior that’s ended up in NY

I like that Negan saved Armstrong. Disappointed but not surprised about Armstrong’s actions once they were alone. Looks like they might have to work together next ep though? I’m hoping Negan tells him why exactly he killed those people.

Eli saying that the Croat was, in a weird way, “Negan’s first kid” despite being older than Negan is soooo idk but it does add something to the way Negan might be feeling about the whole thing

[marieskey]

Look at me, typing out again so soon. Um I’m so glad I’m not pregnant. We have not had sex again. Honestly had I not been sick, I would’ve gone up there and had unprotected sex while i was ovulating, thank GOD i was sick bc I would’ve made the dumbass choice 👅 👅. But no really I would have I kept telling myself I COULD NOT do that to myself for the whole month worrying about whether or not I was pregnant. Like gosh that would’ve been terrible. 

So i’ve been telling myself to get a gripe sort of. If I”m being honest, that was the best sex I’ve ever had, but the flip side of that is that I only I’ve only had sex with 3 people. Its not hard to be the best when there’s only 3 total people. I wake up so horny every morning now.  I don’t think thats every happened before. OMG seriously I want him to fuck me again so bad..If I didn’t have self control it would be embarrassing. But I do, so instead I just imagine fucked into pleasure every morning which is excessive. This is the last weekend I can get fucked before my period. LOL but seriously. 

Our schedules have only been alining when I can get pregnant, thats rude..I counted this morning sort of I came  like 5 times just from the head. Couldn’t even begin to count orgasms from his dick, which I’m still surprised happened. Its been almost a month. We’ve talked but haven’t seen each other. Semi regular dick is not a bad place to be at this stage in my life. 

I don’t want to be with him and as it stands right now, he doesn't want to be with me. I don’t think he’s telling the truth. I think he wants me a lot and enjoyed fucking me much more than I did him. Which I don’t think he was expecting. IF we were different people I think we’d be a good match, but were not and its not. Intellectually were equally yoked but we are at wayyyyy to different place in life.  I don’t want to be attached to him forever either,  so I need not have unprotected sex with him again, will I, probably. I’ve only used a condom once. With anyone its crazy, idk what’s wrong with me. If he got me pregnant I’d keep the baby, 🙄 🙄. I would tho 🙄 BUT I wouldn't want to tell people he got me pregnant. I’d be a little embarrassed. I’d literally only tell people who needed to know, like my immediate family. Maybe Amanda, and Erica, Shekiah but again MAYBE. I’d give the kid his last name or whatever, but I’d leave the rest of that shit up to him. I’d be a single parent. I don’t think he’d “make me” a single mother but honestly 🤷‍♂️ 🤷‍♂️ BUT I’d genuinely be embarrassed to be pregnant with his child.  I say this as a person who likes him. I genuinely like this man, haha It makes me so hot that he want me... literally getting wet thinking about it but its lust. I think about him calling me sexy and I get so hot it Hate it literally bc I should not care. I know I’m hot AF with huge tits and decent sized ass of course he wants to fuck me. BUT it makes me so wet knowing he wants to fuck me. SMH its bc I like him, Men want to fuck me all the time. I literally never give that much of a fuck...anyway lets wrap this up. Goodbye. Hopefully next time I’ll be chronicling how I came repeatedly.  

[eldinkind]

I can't believe I found your Actor!Saigenos just by scrolling down your blog. It thought it was recent but then I saw it was from 2017 lol.

If you remember it, could you at least tell me if they ended up doing the sex scene for real in Saitama's house? 👀

(I also suposse everything was so awkward that they didn't talk to each other for a week or two. And the staff would be like "Screw it, de have enough material to work with" because they were so uncomfortable XD)

Well hello there, Anon!

First of all, I haven’t received an ask in ages as I’m not very active on here anymore (tho that may change with what’s happening on Twitter right now…) so THANK YOU! Very much for sending me this! Asks always make me happy!

As for my SaiGenos Actor!AU oh wow I really posed that 5 years ago?! I can’t believe you managed to just stumble on it. Bless you 🙏 But honestly, I don’t really know how it would have progressed. I’m not a writer, otherwise I would have made a fic out of it cuz I did have a lot of fun with the idea. If anyone would like to write about it, I would feel honored! Things would have ABSOLUTELY been awkward between them since Genos literally orgasms while crying Saitama’s name. I can imagine him hiding away in his dressing room afterwards thinking Saitama must be disgusted with him. When actually, it’s quite the opposite. Saitama would eventually manage to get Genos to talk to him and mutual confessions would ensue and blah blah blah. All the good stuff. And sure they get a real sex scene cuz WHY NOT?! They’re in love!

I’ll drop a link to my little blurb for anyone who wants to read it!

Also check out the adorable art @yiulee999 made for it, which still makes me squeal to this day!

[anne-i-write]

moriarty the patriot headcannons pt. 1

| requested by anon: Can you write about all male characters in moriarty has a same look of their  children and hpw many children they want? |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader; sebastian x reader; fred x reader

word count: 2397

pt. 2: 221b boys

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT WRITE THIS EARLIER IM SO SORRY THIS REQUEST HAS LITERALLY BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS

william: 487 words

with his whole plan to clean the world of the filthy nobles, william never really stopped to think about having children

well, until he met you

you both were in town one day and he saw you fondly watching a child speak with her mother

“i think two children would be nice”

“i didn’t even ask”

“i know, but the look you gave that mother was telling enough”

n e ways he is a simp and he did eventually give you what you wanted

fast forward a few years, you have two children: a boy and a girl

and they look exactly like their father

like,, it lowkey pains you how much they physically take after their father

you wanted to be like “oh they have your personality, but they look just like me!”

no

granted, your son took after you in an emotional sense but your daughter was a daddy’s girl through and through

like she looks like him, she acts like him, speaks like him, she even EATS like him

ok but the men w your children

fred is a freaking sweetheart ok

like he’ll watch over the kids when no one has the time and they love him too so they’ll help out in the garden which you are SO thankful for

tbh they only like uncle albert bc he brings them lil trinkets from when he gets back from london LMAO

louis doesn’t show it, but he absolutely adores your children and makes extra snacks for them at tea time

you caught onto this at one point bc for some REASON your kids would not stop bouncing off of the walls before bed and they told you uncle louis gave them chocolate

and sebastian loves messing w your kids bc,,, sebastian

but he accidentally made your son cry ONCE and he was at the mercy of every adult in the moriarty estate including the boy’s younger sister

needless to say, he watched his actions and words around your children after that

now, william

i’m just gonna say this straight out: most of the men never really thought about having kids (save john and albert)

but when you finally had kids, william had a different outlook on life

like fr,, this man works overtime now trying to get rid of the filth that is called nobles

he doesn’t want his kids to be raised in a world where just because you have more money than another means you get to look down on them

you still instill in them those good morals ofc

he also tries to be very present in their lives since he and his brother were raised as orphans

when he was younger, he didn’t mind it all much

but now that he had this small family and a brighter future, he did everything in his power to make sure they’re happy and grow up in a cleaner and kinder world

louis: 320 words

it took you a week to get him to at LEAST humor you

“if you could, how many kids do you want?”

“none”

like, this guy is so dedicated to his brother and his cause it is a WONDER you somehow wormed your way into his heart

but you did and honestly, the brothers are actually very happy that you’re with them

william especially

louis rarely emotes but when you came into their lives, you got louis pissed at one point and everyone was like,,,, wtf?? he has emotions???

anyways, his answer is one kid LMAO

and when you get that one kid, he looks just like louis

yall already KNOW that he’s ready to die for that child as soon as louis holds him in his arms

the only kid sebastian wouldnt even try to mess with

he can deal with william’s albert’s or fred’s kids but louis lowkey intimidates him so he’s as nice as he can be

that being said, louis teaches his kid how to properly handle stuff around the house

you want to cry bc ur son is just so??? the little kid just loves helping out no matter how small the task and he’s just so cute it hurts

even sebastian’s kinda like,, “aight he’s the only kid i will tolerate”

louis grew up with only his brothers so he also wants to give his son a shot at a normal family

is actually aware at how he thinks he’s indispensable for william’s cause and he doesn’t want his son to end up like him

he also teaches his son some badass fighting moves

oh and louis smiles a lot more too

cried bc his son saw the scar he got on his cheek, rubbed some dirt on his lil face and said “i have daddy’s cool scar now”

all in all his son is the best thing to happen to all of you

albert: 505 words

same as louis in the fact that it takes him a week to answer

“you know you haven’t even answered my question”

“i’m sorry, what did you say?”

“how many kids do you want?”

genuinely takes time to ponder that question

he hadn’t thought of that since his family adopted william and louis

but with you?

“i think two darling girls who take after their mother is enough for me”

pls he’d be so sweet 🥺🥺🥺

you two end up having a girl and a boy, who look just like their father

and tbh, you’re not even mad

you love them so much so when albert comes back north, the three of you are ecstatic

the happiness was short lived for albert tho

he found his son spending time with william and there’s nothing bad right????

“where’s your sister?”

“she’s with mr. moran”

his heart DROPPED

out of all the people in the manor

HIM

he sees the two running around the garden

it all happened as soon as albert’s daughter went up to sebastian and said “you’re very pretty! you’re my knight now!”

he decided to “adopt” the little girl and now he’s lowkey whipped

you found albert staring at sebastian playing with his daughter and updated him about everything going on

“but him??”

“he’s just a big softie for her let it go”

isn’t really surprised when he finds out they can fight a little

actually glad that they can hold their own, God forbid anything happens to them

otherwise mi6 has to deal w family matters lmao

“albert, she only tripped”

“you shouldve seen the fear in her eyes as she fell”

“IT WAS A STRAY COBBLESTONE”

would raise hell if anyone even THOUGHT ill of his kids

william and louis are the doting uncles

william more so than louis bc your kids have never seen louis smile

now they’re on a mission to make uncle louis smile

louis was on child duty one day and they managed to slip away

omyGOD he was stressed but also,, extremely worried

so when he found them he had the most genuine smile on his face

your daughter was like (・∀・)

she loves uncle louis

ofc your son adores his dad like,,, who else wouldn't feel awesome at the age of 10 if you found out your dad was a high ranking general

feels superior to sebastian bc of his dad

lmao this 4’5 kid thinks he can rule sebastian for some odd reason

the house is always dirty bc him and sebastian always prank each other

your daughter is trying to catch a butterfly but she can’t so fred helps

instantly loves fred

“is that what heartbreak is”

“i guess that’s what happens when you try to get close to my kids colonel”

albert is kind of afraid of turning into his dad but he has you and everyone else to remind him that: no you are not your father, you are so much better than him

loves your family with his entire being

sebastian: 844 words

“i see you looking at those kids and the answer is none”

lmao you’ll get so pouty around him bc you want kids dammit

that and he spoils you to no end so that's why you’re pouty lol

“fine we’ll only do one kid and bc one kid is all i can tolerate”

bruh

this man gives you three in four years LMFAO

two boys a year apart and a girl in the fourth year

you wanted to smack sebastian

when the two boys grew up, it was obvious they were already taking after their father in the physical sense

it was terrifying

they genuinely look like mini sebastians and you know everyone in the manor is afraid that you two birthed satan

and the satan was your eldest one

he’s just a feral sebastian moran in a tiny body

your second son, god bless him, looked just like his father but with fred’s temperament

and see, you were fine with your sons looking like their father

it was FINE right

you prayed to God that your third child would have at least some physical resemblance to you

your daughter was birthed, she grew up

and you cried

“HOW DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE YOU”

“i’ve got some strong genetics, baby”

you sulk for a lil bit

but you accept it anyway because you love your goddamn kids

thankfully, your second and youngest child are both soft spoken and it's only your husband and his tiny clone bringing hell to earth

smacking sebastian bc all of your children suddenly started swearing up a storm at each other

“WHYD YOU HIT ME”

“YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO SWEARS AROUND THE KIDS”

finally sitting down and trying to convince them to stop swearing

“father does it!”

“your father’s stupid”

speaking of your daughter

she’s his little princess and no he will not take criticism

spoils her more than he spoils you

did she glance at a toy at a passing store?

he buys more toys than he should from said store

you have to physically hide some of his money bc there is only so much you can buy

and her older brothers are so caring you want to sob

if a person accidentally shoved her over bc she was tiny and they couldn’t see her

oh boy

get ready to restrain them like chihuahuas

“little sister will be protected at all costs”

since his second son is so different from him, sebastian actively makes time to talk about what the little boy is doing and what he’s getting from it

doesn’t want to be pushy and suffocating like his dad was so when his younger kid does want to be left alone to his devices, sebastian does so

but honestly loves that your second son is so literate

lddhsajdsfk what yall dont know is that they’re all in cahoots

kinda funny to see them all together bc they all take after their father so much it's like having three tiny sebastians go around town

anyways,,,, yall know the promised neverland right

you got ray, norman, and emma

granted one of them wasn’t as smart as ray but he definitely knew what stealth was

regular sibling rivalry was still a thing but if they could smell the pudding from the kitchen, they know they have to work together

sebastian caught his eldest smuggling biscuits into a small bag

he had half a mind to scold him

but then he ended up giving tips TO ALL HIS CHILDREN on how not to get caught next time—

bc of this they beg him to tell them some stories from afghanistan bc “there’s no way a man as old as dad knows this many stealth tactics”

louis is so fed up lmao

albert is in london most of the time so he just thanks the lord that he doesn’t have to deal w the propaganda that sebastian feeds his children about how “mr. albert is a bad man”

william is fine w it as long as they don’t trash the library

your younger ones love the library so they would cry at the thought of one of the books losing any of the pages

your second and your daughter are definitely the moriartys’ favorites

they don’t show it, but you just KNOW

your eldest could care less about that though

as long as you and his father still love him

and of course you both do

and fred is definitely your youngers favorite

they like to hang out in the garden

ok they still fight all the time though

just because your second child is soft spoken doesn't mean he’s afraid to throw hands

their sister likes to join in for the hell of it

but if someone wrongs any of the children

just because the younger ones are the moriartys’ favorite, doesn’t mean that they’re not gonna hunt someone down if they even think about trying to hurt the eldest too

yeah,,, good luck to them and their families

they got the entire moriarty estate coming after them

fred: 241 words

cmon yall are like,, young

but you did ask him bc you were curious if he thought about it

he wants one

and when yall do have the kid, you guys actually do have one kid and its a girl

since you both are young, you can immediately see a resemblance between her and her father

everyone who meets her would die for her

ABSOLUTE CUTIE

especially when she walks around the garden w her hand in her dad’s and he’s showing her all the plants and telling her how to take care of them

needless to say she grows up loving plants

any type of plant

the boys love giving her flowers or anything from bc she has the biggest smile every single time

no matter if it’s just a single rose or a rock

this was found out one time when sebastian gave her a rock bc everyone else had given her like,, two roses each

was afraid she was gonna cry

“thank you so much mr. moran! i will treasure this until i get old!”

she was like 4 at the time

and had the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her

guys u don’t understand she smiles a lot but this was like,, genuine happiness

but everyone was just,, i will destroy the world and myself if anything happens to her

fr it’s just sunshines and rainbows every single time she’s around

everyone just loves her ok

moriarty the patriot general taglist: @zoehanji

[swtki]

HP Boys: Surprise Pregnancy Head Cannons

Summary: The HP boys and their reaction to their s/o (afab) being pregnant when its not planned.

A/N: This takes place post Hogwarts so all characters are 18+, though no real smut happens in this so its not an 18+ fic.

WARNINGS: UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF PRO CHOICE OPINIONS, MENTIONS OF SEX IN LITE TERMS, SWEARING, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, ALSO THIS IS SUPER LONG SORRY LOL

Draco

So everything is going great for the happy couple, you two just moved into a flat together and are working normal jobs, drinking wine like adults.

And sure, Draco knows he wants to marry you, but he knows you’re not ready to settle down like that so he just plans and dreams.

Due to poor choices, when you’re late by two weeks, you know what it probably is.

Draco doesn’t even notice that you ran out to the store and came back and hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes. CEO of minding his own business ig

You just kinda...walk up to him and hand him all 3 tests while your eyes fill with tears because what if he demands you get an abortion?

Or what if he fucks off to god knows where?

But instead he just looks at you with the most un-draco like smile. Like his face was soft and it looked like he could cry any moment.

“Oh my god,” He says, putting his hand on your belly, “I can be ready for this, but if you aren’t then we can you know...”

“No, I want it” then both of you rejoice bc yay baby!

Cut to 6 months later when your feet hurt so bad you have to lay down and watch while Draco fails to put a crib together.

He eventually gets it done tho.

And when the time comes, he’s built and arranged everything for your bundle of joy.

Harry

So you guys are probably already married, but with everything at the ministry going on, it makes Harry less than a family man.

You both agree that it’s probably better to wait so you can be home and yk...raise it.

Well smart man Harry forgets that to not have a kid you need to use protection.

So of course when your period is late you don’t think about it, until its four weeks late.

That night, you and Harry are laying in bed, and thats when you tell him.

“Harry..I’m late.”

“Late for what?” headass.

You: 😳😐

Him: 👁👁😲😲

He’s hesitant to say anything, because he knows its ultimitley up to you what happens with it until its out.

“I think I want to keep it...you know it wont remember much for the first year and a half so if things are stressful it will be okay and-“

“Love...Its going to be perfect”

Mf built the crib in like 45 minutes I swear.

And of course he forced you to keep up with your vitamins, pre natal care, and appointments.

Swear tho you’re about to kill him because cofFeE

But the way he holds your baby 🥺 its his most valued thing ever now.

Ron

Ron is iffy on the kid thing sometimes.

He does want them, but only later when you guys have lived and travled.

So no, you two haven’t planned nor is it even in the picture when your wedding roles around.

It’s in the early days of the marriage when you see his family at the burrow on the way back from the honeymoon.

And of course Molly knows

Because Weasleys are hyperfertile I swear.

She takes you into the kitchen and puts her hands on your arms, shes got that big Mrs.Weasley smile on too.

“I knew it!” She says and pulls you in for a hug, “How far dear??”

You’re just standing there like🧍🏻

“I can see it by the way you glow! Oh my you and my Ron must be so happy!” This woman doesn’t notice that you’re confused.

“Wait what? Mrs. Weasley what are you-?” Then you count the days, “Oh. Well I guess I just found out for myself”

Her face falls slightly, but then she tells you can make you a potion that will tell you if you are or not, stan.

The stupid potion turns green when you spit into it, so everything is confirmed.

That night, you and Ron are getting ready for bed in the guest room and you decide to tell him.

“Ron, sweetie. We need to talk.” He looks like he’s gonna start crying but sits next to you on the bed.

“Y/N...I know its scary but please, we just got married I don’t want to divorce quite just yet 🥺🥺”

“Ron I-“ you start smiling, “I’m pregnant you dufus.”

He just freezes, for a while. Not saying anything, he just looks at the wall with his mouth ajar.

So you get up and go to Ginny.

“Gin, I broke him.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know about how you and him”

“No, I told him that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah that would do it. Just I don’t know... Give him a minute?”

You give him several, getting a glass of water then heading back up to the room.

Ginny was right, he needed a minute.

“I don’t...I wasn’t...you were.?”

“You don’t have to stay, but I think we can do it. Plus, you would disapoint your mom if you left so...”

“Okay...we’ll do it. I’ll be the best damn Father you have ever seen.” He says, talking to your womb.

Well...he’s a father I’ll give him that.

Pro of having a Weasley baby: free crib thats already put together.

Even if it looks like a death trap.

“We’ll put some blankets over it don’t worry”

You know how some Dads hold their parters hand during the delivery? Yeah he got sick and was moral support from the outside.

To be fair, you weren’t screaming in pleasure by any means.

Scary. But beautiful.

He shows the kid to everyone, he might be more in love with the baby than he is with you.

Ron see’s the appeal of having kids now.

Neville

Moving in with your boyfriend is always fun, right up until you guys go at it so much you forget protection more than once.

You think about it, then move on with your day.

Until the doctor calls, then “oh fuck”

Romance Neville bf

“Why aren’t you having any wine? I thought it was your favorite?”

“I don’t think fetal alcohol syndrome is my favorite.” BRO HE SPAT

But he looks up with tears in his eyes, and runs over to you to grasp you in a hug.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant! Oh my - We’re gonna be parents!! Oh my god we’re gonna be parents oh-“ Que you petting his hair till he’s calm again.

Lets be honest, this man probably swapped the herbology books for the parenting guides.

“Well I mean I’m just wondering if we should go with this color or this one”

“Nev, it doesn’t matter. Our baby will not care.”

“I read in my book that Infants actually can recognize mood in-“

He won’t let you do anything during your pregnancy.

Gotta love a man who cries because he loves you so much and you’re having his kid.

“I never had a father, what if I do it wrong? What if the baby hates me and runs away at seven?”

“We’ve got quite a lot of time before then.”

He was there during delivery, letting you crush his hand like a champ.

You can’t help but cry when you see him sleeping on the floor next to the crib, its so sweet.

Fred

You two most likely already had two kids, so you decided to wait a bit so your hands weren’t quite full.

Well...your body decided not to wait.

A test provides the two lines, another wild child.

The two toddlers already run around like thing one and thing two, only with red hair.

I think Fred would gladly make the family dinner, and wear an apron. He’d own it, as he should.

But mf gotta not drop the salad bowl when you tell him of the fetus inside you.

“Fred we are going to have a bee-ay-bee-why.”

Your five year old has just begun to spell 😐

He’s happy tho.

Like over the fuckin moon.

He buys the two kids big brother/sister shirts too 🥺🥺

He knows the drill pretty well, so he isn’t too worried about the future.

But its funny that he still freaks out about the crib and feeding chair since he gave it away, you know because you guys werent having another kid.

He packed a hospital bag and kept it in the trunk, counting down the days.

Hours of delivery (He just sat back and held your hand) only to end up with a room full of 7 Weasley family members.

Fred always said that 3 was his lucky number :)

George

You guys were taking it slow, no marriage until you both felt it was time. And certainly no children before that.

Well you know...things changed when the test was positive.

You slid it over on the table, tears pooling in your eyes. He was stunned and quiet, which made you burst out sobbing because you knew that neither of you planned on having a baby.

But to your surprise he starts to smile.

“I want whatever you want, I’m staying by your side no matter what.”

“I mean...would it really be so bad? A house, a kid, a dog?” He holds your hand as you think aloud.

You both give it a week to think it over and the virdict is to keep it.

Thats when he decides he has to marry you, asap because he loves you and will never let you go especially now.

He loves to gush about the carrier of his child, to him you are a godess.

He’s the Dad with a predestination complex.

“Y/N, I just see him being a star quiditch player”

“George, we don’t know if it’s a him.”

He rolls his eyes “Okay then I can see her being a star-“

He made Hermione take you out for a movie date so he could rearrange your bedroom, since you only had a single bedroom flat.

You come back to a new set up including a cot.

Damn pregnancy hormones make brain go 🥺😭😭

He freaks when your water breaks lol

ceo of driving like a maniac to the hospital.

He can’t hold your hand, he’s pacing back and forth, sweating and maybe crying though he’ll never admit to it.

You get the joy of watching him cuddle the baby while refusing to give your child to you.

“George I’d like to hold-“

“No, you need your sleep honey, don’t worry”

Hogging the child.

Cedric

Its no secret that Cedric wants a baby someday.

And he makes it clear your wedding will be spectacular too.

However, finding out you’re pregnant the week of your dream wedding was a shock.

A shock that made you bang your head into the wall because how could you be so stupid?? We had a plan??

So you decide to wait until after the wedding, that way it wont add onto the stress (happy stress) of the wedding.

Cedric keeps trying to fill your glass at the reception, to which you kindly refuse saying you want to remember the night entirely.

Yeah he’s like 🤨 mhm okay.

You can only pick at the dinner because ew salmon doesn’t sound like an option if you want to keep the contents of your stomach.

As everyone waves goodbye to the car, and you both set off into married life, he leans over.

“I may be out of my mind, but are you...?”

“Pregnant.” His face lights up, pulling you into a hug.

Finally, your car pulls up to a small cottage with lush garden scapes all around, putting a hand out, he walks you both from the car to the door.

“Ced, where are we?”

“Home.”

Somehow it was perfect with Cedric, even when it was rushed.

He loved talking to your womb, even if it was weird that he was talking about the babies future brothers and sisters.

“Cedric, slow down. We haven’t even had this one yet”

Basically he is father of the year before he’s a full father.

He’s there while you deliver, holding your hand and telling you how great you’re doing.

He doesn’t even complain when you insult him <3.

He updates you on everything.

If his eyes aren’t on that child, he’s either asleep or dead.

I think Cedric was meant to be a family man, because he loves everything about being one.

Taglist: @truly-insatiable @amourtentiaa @imdoingathingmom @annasdani @anchoeritic @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @faeinorbit

[wandaswifeyforlifey]

Hey could I request a Brie Larson x r where they meet at the set of Avengers endgame and they both have a crush on each other and their co stars make fun of them and they just blush and it's really

A/n: Thank you for requesting this! I try to write them within 24hrs of either the request being sent or me seeing the request so sorry if this is a bit later. I do most of my writing at like 12-5 am so some of it might be shitty lol. I love doing requests tho and will always try my best to make them work for your taste.

Word Count: 1048

Warnings: None really, just pure fluff

Ship: Brie Larson x Reader

"You better get up soon or you're gonna be late!" Called Scarlett from downstairs. Scarlett and you had met on the set of one of your first movies and quickly began to hang out more and more until you decided to be roommates. You had finished shooting Avengers: Infinity War about 2 months ago and were exactly 2 weeks into filming Avengers: Endgame which you were pretty excited about because you would get to film with some actors that you never had before.

"Coming!" You shouted back. Sadly, you weren't quite adjusted to the earlier mornings yet which definitely wasn't helpful considering you would be doing tiring work all day. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed downstairs for breakfast.

"Hey sleepyhead," Scarlett smirked at me as she cooked her omelette.

"Any news that could redeem my mood this morning?"

"Well… you are filming the 'female empowerment' scene today. You've got to be pretty excited to be acting with some new people, right?"

"Oh yeah! I completely forgot about that. I've got to admit Scar, that has perked me up a bit so thank you."

"Wow, you don't need to sound so surprised." She laughed.

You made yourself a coffee, had some cereal then went to have a shower. You put on a comfortable outfit considering as soon as you get on set you'll get your costume and makeup done.

Once you arrived you were swarmed with people filling you in on the scenes and telling you where you needed to go but they were all talking over each other so you understood nothing. Thank god I have my assistant, you thought to yourself.

*2 hours later*

You had your hair and makeup finished when you heard a knock on your trailer door.

"Come in!" You called while wondering who could possibly be seeing you when your assistant was on their break and you were already prepared to film.

"Hey, Y/n? I'm Brie. I just wanted to introduce myself before we started shooting."

You were just looking at her with pure adoration as the most beautiful woman you had ever seen stepped in.

"Y/n?"

"O-oh, yeah, sorry, hi." You cleared your throat because you noticed you were staring. "So I assume you're doing the all-female scene with me?"

You moved along your sofa so that she could sit down next to you.

"Yeah, actually and I'm super excited for it. I think it's brilliant to team up all the female superheroes."

"I could not agree more! But it sucks that Natasha isn't in it."

"Wait, she isn't?"

"No, I was chatting with Scarjo this morning, because we share an apartment, and she said her character wouldn't be in it."

"Oh are you and Scarlett, like, a thing? Because it would be totally fine if you were and I just didn't know your were interested in women and-"

"Hey, hey slow down," you laughed, "no me and Scar aren't a thing but I am interested in women."

"Me too! I don't really like to use labels because I find them too constricting though."

The conversation died down but not in an uncomfortable way, more in a content way. You stared into each other’s eyes until Brie said:

"Anyway. I should really get going. I haven't even got my makeup done yet." She spoke hurriedly and quickly left the trailer. You weren't sure how to feel about her sudden departure but deep down it hurt you a little. Why would she leave so quickly if we were having a nice time? Did she find it uncomfortable? I really hope the conversation ended positively in her books too, you thought.

You shot a couple of scenes before the all-women scene and took a break just before it to talk to Scarlett.

"Hey Scar, have you seen Brie? She came into my trailer to chat a bit and it seemed like we were having a really nice time but then she just left all of a sudden."

"Uh, no I don't think I have since our second scene but it sounded like you had a good time, eh?" She smirked and nudged you. You knew she noticed how concerned you were about Brie.

"Fine, maybe I thought she was really pretty and sweet but I don't know how she feels."

"Well from the glances she sent you during our first and second scenes I’d say she likes you back.”

“I never said I liked her, ok? I just said I thought she was amazing and charming and attractive and stuff.”

“That’s literally the same thing.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I need Y/n and Brie over here please? You guys are going to be opening the Female Avengers Unite scene so we’re just going to give you a little run-through,” shouted Joe Russo from across the set.

“Oo-ooh you enjoy yourself, Y/n.” taunted Scarlett. You playfully stuck your tongue out at her as you walked over.

*Once shooting was done for the day*

Yet again you heard a knock on your door as you were just finishing packing your stuff up to leave.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, again,” announced Brie as she stepped in. This time though, she wouldn’t make eye contact with you and seemed to be rather nervous.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it's just, um… so Scarlett told me how you felt after I left and I felt pretty bad so I just thought I should come back and apologise and tell you that it wasn’t your fault, it had nothing to do with you. I promise.”

“Oh no, you don’t need to apologise! I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I absolutely didn’t mean to.”

You saw the heat rise in her cheeks.

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t just come here to apologise. I came here to tell you the truth. Okay… I just need to get this off my chest. I think I have feelings for you.” She looked at you hopefully, only to have a blank stare in return. You weren’t sure what to say. You were so overwhelmed with excitement and happiness that you just stood up and hugged her. Burying your face in the crook of her neck you whispered, “I want to stay in this moment forever.”

If you want to be added to my taglist ask/message me!

[onceupon]

London Boy - Part 4: Just friends

summary: You wake up to find Rafe Cameron in your bed. Even though nothing happened, you’re still left trying to make sense of it all.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 5k

a/n: thank you so much to all of you who have been reading along <333 sorry in advance if you want this to progress faster haha, it simply must be this slow, sorry I don't make the rules (even tho I do lol). Not canon Rafe!! 

masterlist

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the early morning rays wake you up. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. As you slowly gain consciousness you’re startled by the weight of Rafe’s arm draped across your body. What the hell? When did that happen? He spent the night in your bed?

Your mind races at a million miles an hour as you slowly slip out from under his hold. You were careful not to wake him up, not wanting to face any awkwardness. You throw on fresh clothes and grab your backpack, desperate to make your escape. You had wanted to get to school early today to work on some homework anyways, never before so eager to trade in the comfort of your bed for the library. 

After a quick pit stop to pick up a coffee and a croissant, you swing the heavy wooden doors open. You liked campus at this hour, the morning light still soft, the air crisp, and the atmosphere silent. As you scan your eyes for a spot to sit, you notice the unmistakable sight of fluffy brown hair hunched over a table. 

“Liam?” your whisper. “What the hell are doing here?”

That classic cheeky grin spreads across his face as he looks up to find you standing in front of him. “I go here, Y/n. Forget already?”

You roll your eyes, “I just didn’t know you were the studious type.”

“Not gonna lie to you babe, I’m not. But Rogers is already all the way up my ass over this class, and I’m not letting that prick hold me back a year.” 

You pull out the chair across from him and go to sit down, spreading your books out on the table. 

“Who said you could sit with?” he asks, and you shoot him a look. You’re not in the mood. “Geez alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed… you good Y/n?” he slows, taking in your disheveled appearance. You hadn’t so much as brushed your hair. 

“Can you promise not to tell anyone,” you stare dead into his eyes. 

“On my life,” he extends his pinky, and you accept. 

“Rafe… slept over last night…”

“Oh shit!” he exclaims, and your eyes widen at his echoing voice. 

“Not like that,” you hiss, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the two of you. “Nothing happened… like he just came over to watch a show and then we talked for a while and just accidentally… fell asleep. I panicked when I woke up and realized he was still in my bed so I ran out of there as fast as I could and now…. well now I’m here.” You nervously chug your coffee, heart racing. 

“So he hung out with you all night and didn’t make a move?”

You nod, nervously awaiting his analysis as you take a bite of your croissant. 

“Damn, boy must really like you,” he muses. 

“What? Definitely not,” you scoff. 

“Y/n, let me tell you a little something about guys. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what. The fact that he’s coming over your room to watch a show and hanging out with you until he physically can’t stay awake - I mean I can’t make it any more obvious to you.”

“I don’t know I just don’t think so… You don’t know Rafe like that, he’s a total player back home. He can pull any girl he wants, so if he liked me like that he would’ve done something by now. This is probably how he is with all his friends and I’m just reading too much into it. I’m sure Lily Colts will be in his bed soon enough,” you mumble. That last part stings in particular, you had already thought it, but saying it out loud made you feel… icky. 

“I may not know Rafe like that, but I know guys like him. I am guys like him. He likes you Y/n. So what if he pulls a lot of chicks, he doesn’t actually care about them. But he cares about you, probably can’t even understand why, and now it’s like bam Uno reverse. He can’t pull the cards he normally does, and now you’ve got him confused and he doesn’t know what to do. Man’s down bad. Give him time though, he’ll come around,” he explains to you calmly, stealing your coffee cup from you and taking a sip. 

“Honestly can I just start paying you to figure my life out for me. You make everything seem so simple.”

“Because it is simple. You insist on complicating it. But I know how you could pay me,” he adds with a wink and you shoot him a glare. You know he’s just joking (partially), he loves pushing your buttons. 

“Well whatever. I’ll believe it when I see it,” you resign on the Rafe matter. You wanted to believe what Liam was saying but it didn’t quite make sense to you. You were only going to drive yourself crazy trying to read between lines that you weren’t sure existed. Rafe was just used to situations like this with girls. To him last night was probably no big deal. It was to you though. You would never let ‘just a friend’ stay over like that, with his arm around you no less. But Rafe didn’t need to know that, you decide. 

—-

You manage to avoid Rafe all day, not having any classes with him on Friday’s. As soon as your last class is over, you sprint home, relieved when you’re the first back at the flat and can quickly slip into your room undetected. You set down your bag and sit on the edge of your bed. Your hand slowly runs over your comforter, still ruffled from where Rafe had been laying the night before. The indent of his head is still on your pillow; you can almost smell the scent of him lingering in your room and hear the sound of his soft whispers. You wonder what his first thoughts were when he woke up in your bed alone - was he confused? Embarrassed? He probably thought nothing of it at all. You can just picture him casually getting up with a stretch, like it’s the start of any typical day.

You slip into the shower and let the water wash over your body. It’s warm and soothing, and it’s reminding you of Rafe laying next to you, of his arm wrapped around you. God if there was only a way to shut your brain off once in a while. As much as you tried to suppress it, there had been a tiny part of you that was happy to have woken up in his embrace, giddy like a school girl with a crush. You’d always wondered how a moment like that would feel, or how a moment like that with him would feel. You had conveniently failed to mention the “arm” detail to Liam, maybe because in the back of your mind you knew it would only help prove his theory right.  

When you make your way back to your room, your phone buzzes and the Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 group chat appears. 

Olivia: who wants to go out tonight 😈

Topper: me and Rafe have to be up early tmrw for soccer - rain check on this one ladies 

Olivia: :( 

Olivia: girls night out??

Millie: you know I’m there!

You’re a little bummed that Rafe won’t be there tonight. But a girls night sounds like just what you need to get him off your mind. 

Y/n: I’m in :)

Not even a few minutes later Olivia and Millie are barging into your room, causing you to let out a startled yelp. 

“My god, heard of knocking,” you exhale with your hand coming to your chest. Your statement falls on death ears. 

“Which jeans with this top,” Olivia asks, holding the clothing items against her body. 

“Should I curl or straighten my hair with this,” Millie follows, holding her outfit up. 

“Uhh,” your mind scrambles, “those jeans Liv. And straight, Mills,” you reply, shocked by your own decidedness. “But now you guys have to help me, I have no clue what to wear.”

“Say less,” Olivia flashes a smile. 

Within minutes they tear through your closet, picking out your outfit. Things were always much more clear with a fresh set of eyes. The three of you discuss the night’s logistics before making your way to the kitchen - couldn’t go drinking on an empty stomach. Rafe and Topper are already there, and you try your best to act natural even though your stomach ties itself in a knot the moment you catch a glimpse of his face. You haven’t seen him since you ran out this morning. 

“Uh hey I’m gonna run to Sainsbury’s real quick, I wanna get a chaser, anyone need anything,” you ask, avoiding eye contact with Rafe. Your nerves get the best of you and in terms of fight or flight, you were ready to flee. 

“Hey wait I’ll come with you. Gotta pick something up for dinner,” Rafe stands grabbing his jacket, and before you can interject, he’s leading the way down the hall and out your shared flat. 

“So what are you chasing tonight?” 

“What?” you ask startled, his question pulling you back to reality. Your mind had been running in a loop, trying to read him and the thoughts in his head. You wished now more than ever that you knew what Rafe was like behind closed doors back home, so you could somehow make sense of it all.

He chuckles at you, lost in your own world. “You said you needed a chaser?” Those intimidating blue eyes have found their way to yours again and you hastily look away, focusing in front of you instead. 

“Oh yeah- uh just for the vodka,” you laugh nervously. 

“Basic,” he mocks. You scoff in surprise and lightly hit him on the chest as the laughter leaves your lips. He’s sporting a shit-eating grin, having successfully egged you on. 

“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna do shots of whiskey before going to a club.”

“Well you do owe me one…” he says.

“Oh so he remembers?” you reply, amused.

“Of course,” he states so calm and so sure. Your head swirls at that, his cool confidence making you melt. The automatic doors slide open in front of you, fluorescent lights stealing your attention from the boy you were finding dangerously more attractive by the second.

“I thought we’re supposed to take it together? But someone’s being lame and not coming out tonight,” you say sarcastically, playing it as cool as you can manage. Rafe’s confidence seemed to come naturally, but you were more of a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of gal.

“Hey you know I have soccer,” he defends. The Kook Prince was not one to turn down a party without cause.

“Excuses excuses,” you shake your head.

“Actually, speaking of soccer, you uh- you and the girls should come tomorrow. If you’re not doing anything. Or not too hungover I should say. Game’s at 12.”

“Can’t make any promises Cameron, but we’ll see,” you smile, earning a satisfied smile from him in return. 

You make your way to the frozen food aisle, Rafe explaining to you how they call a soccer field a football pitch here, as you laugh at him grabbing 5 frozen pizzas (dinner solved for the next week, of course). You ask him which chaser you should pick. He points out a cola, so naturally you decide to get blackberry seltzer water, Rafe twisting his face in disgust (who would voluntarily drink that tv static). You always felt so nervous at first, to be in Rafe’s presence, but all it ever took was a few minutes for you to completely relax around him. He was intimidating, yet inviting. Mysterious, yet open. He was somehow the cause of your anxious nerves and yet the source of your comfort. The fear of facing Rafe after running out this morning had paralyzed your thoughts all day, and now you could hardly remember why. He hadn’t mentioned it at all, as if nothing happened. His normalcy confirmed for you that him sleeping over was in fact no big deal, and you almost want to laugh at yourself for how much you had worked it up in your head. You two were just friends, and perhaps Rafe was used to being… a friendlier friend than what you were used to. But that was okay, you could learn to be friendlier too.

—-

Rafe and Topper had decided to accompany you guys in the kitchen as you pregamed. They slowly sipped beers as you, Millie, and Olivia pounded back shots, laughing at the way you guys got progressively drunker and progressively louder before finally heading out. And much to your surprise, the boys were still seated in the same spot hours later, when the three of you stumble back into the flat, McDonalds in hand.

“Oh look who’s still up,” Olivia slurs, taking a bite of her cheeseburger. 

“We can’t go out, we have soccer,” Millie mocks, almost falling to the floor as she trips over her heel, Topper and Rafe not making any effort to hide their clear amusement. 

“Fun night huh?” Topper quirks his brow. 

“The funnest,” Millie holds her head high, sinking down against the wall until she’s sat on the floor. You had made a beeline for the dining room table, silently admiring your chicken nuggets. In that moment, they were the best thing you had ever tasted. 

“I want Jake,” Olivia pouts, and before anyone can say a word she’s turned on her heel, burger in hand, off to crawl into her boyfriend’s bed. 

“Alright you drunk, let’s get you to bed,” Topper laughs, scooping an incoherent Millie up to her feet by her elbows. 

“M’not drunk,” Millie protests, even though she’s leaning her full body weight against Topper who sarcastically nods at her, escorting her down the hallway. Rafe sits on the couch, silently playing with the cards in his hand again, not the least bit uncomfortable with sharing your company in silence. 

“I’m mad at you,” you say matter of factly, taking a bite of a french fry. At this point, the alcohol is doing the talking. 

“Mad at me?” Rafe stops shuffling the cards and raises his head to look at you, intrigued. 

“Yeah because you didn’t come to the club,” you furrow your brows, chucking a fry at him. He catches it instantly, laughing to himself with a shake of his head. 

“Don’t worry I saw all your guys’ snaps, I feel like I was practically there.”

“That’s not the same,” you frown, throwing another fry which he catches yet again.

“I’ll try to be there next time,” he laughs.

“That’s better I guess,” you grumble, eating another chicken nugget. The room grows quiet, Rafe training his attention back to the cards.

“When are we watching the next episode Cameron,” you break the silence, chucking another fry. He barely has to look up to catch your latest throw, shaking his head with a chuckle. He puts the cards down and makes his way over to the dining table, standing right above you now. 

“Come on, time for you to go to bed,” he beckons you toward him with his arm, to which you only furrow your brows in indignation.

“I’m not done with my food,” you protest.

“Now you are,” he says, grabbing your last fry and finishing it with one bite. “Now c’mon.” You reluctantly grab onto his extended arm to help you get up. You walk down the hall together and he opens your door for you, letting you in as he leans against the frame. You immediately fall back and collapse on to your bed with a gasp, you didn’t remember it feeling so soft when you were sober. 

“Goodnight L/n,” Rafe laughs, staring down at you. 

“Goodnight Rafe,” you mumble, seconds away from passing out. He smiles to himself at the sight of you still in the outfit and shoes you had been out in, bent in surely the most uncomfortable position possible, legs half way off the bed, yet somehow already asleep. He’s about to head back to his room, but he hesitates, turning back to you with a sigh. As slowly and quietly as he can, he pulls your shoes off for you, lifts your legs onto the bed, and covers you in your blanket. And just as quick, he slips out of your room and back into his.

—-

You wake up the next morning, letting out a groan when you realize you’re still in the outfit you had worn clubbing. Your head dully aches and your throat is desert dry so you force yourself up and to the kitchen. When you see the aftermath of McDonald���s containers on the table, vague memories start flooding your brain in horror. You couldn’t have… could you? Did you actually throw french fries at him? You close your eyes and slowly run your hand over your face in realization. Great, you think to yourself, Rafe probably thinks you’re an annoying idiot. Good grief.

You hear the door of the flat opening and Olivia appears in the kitchen, holding a plate of breakfast sandwiches, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Thank the lovely lads in apartment 4E,” she laughs, placing them on the table. “Oh god, we went hard last night didn’t we,” she says, taking in the sight of the flat.

“A little too hard…” you remark.

“No such thing, darling! Now eat up and get dressed, we’ve got a match to catch,” she declares before disappearing down the hall where you can hear muffled groans of Millie being reluctantly dragged out of her bed. You sigh and sink down into a chair, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite. Heaven. You make a mental note to thank Jake for his chef skills. You had completely forgotten that you and the girls were supposed to go watch Rafe and Topper’s match today. Your worries about having to face Rafe yesterday had been quick to melt away, but today they were back with a new vengeance.

—-

“Okay no one wander off when we get there. Y/n, fair warning, these games get… rowdy,” Millie says, as the three of you walk toward the field, arms linked.

“Things get pretty crazy at Kildare too,” you laugh, “so yeah, don’t fucking let me out of your sight.”

The three of you shake off your fits of laughter as you stumble toward the stands, finding a spot amongst the already packed crowd. You’re finally able to take in your surroundings, glancing at the field ahead. The opposing team is warming up on the pitch, clad in red. Westheath’s team is off to the side, the boys stretching and getting ready in their white uniforms. The dirty blonde immediately catches your eye. He’s jumping and jogging in place, headphones in as though he’s tuning out the physical noise around him, and probably the mental noise too. You wonder if he’s listening to one of the songs he showed you the other night. 

He pauses his jogging to stretch out his arms, his eyes glazing over the stands, when suddenly they lock with yours. Your cheeks flush pink, embarrassed at having been caught staring, but his face just pulls into a wide grin and he gives you a wave. You wave back, and he does a quick hand motion that everyone does at Kildare games back home. You laugh and do the responding gesture, as he smiles cheekily at you before a teammate comes up to him, pulling his focus away. The exchange was brief, but oddly intimate. There was a whole field and a couple dozen people between you, and yet you two were the only witnesses to the interaction. You smile to yourself, relief in the fact that maybe getting a french fry chucked at him wasn’t enough to make him hate you after all. You wonder briefly if Rafe spends half as much time overanalyzing things the way you do. Liam was right, you do insist on overcomplicating things. 

“Hey, earth to Y/n!” Olivia laughs, waving her hand in front of your face. “The game is starting!”

—

The final score flashes on the screen: 4-2, a win for Westheath. The students are going nuts, rushing the field. Olivia and Millie lead the way, pushing through the crowd until you guys reach Rafe and Topper.

“Let’s go boys!!” Olivia yells, jumping up and down with the sea of bodies and beer around you. Rafe and Topper react with equal enthusiasm, pulling each of you in for a hug. You and Rafe are the last to hug, him pulling you in brief but close against his large sweaty body, arms wrapped around you. You don’t even mind the stickiness of the hug, feeling deja vu at the warm feeling of being in his embrace again; a feeling that is foreign yet familiar, one you hadn’t felt before. 

“Did you guys see Rafe’s goal in the second half!?” Topper asks, clapping his friend on the back.

“Of course we did, super star!” Millie cheers, giving Rafe a high five as he humbly shakes his head and laughs at his friends. The mental image of his goal was burned in your head, one that your mind would certainly play for you involuntarily over the next coming days. 

“Alright we gotta go do some stuff with the team, but everyone’s going to Central Bar later. See you guys there?” Rafe asks.

“You got it,” Olivia replies, and they jog off with quick waves, you meeting those blue eyes in silent acknowledgement once again. It was that gaze that always made the rest of the world seem to disappear while his eyes met yours, making your heart skip a beat. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Just a tall, attractive, soccer-playing friend…

—

“Y/n! Liv! We’re doing a round!” Jake calls you and Olivia over to where him and Liam are already at the bar, four shot glasses ordered and lined up.

“On three! One, two-“ Liam chants, as the four of you down the alcohol. Central Bar had been buzzing with what felt like half of Westheath’s student body all day. After the game, you and the girls had gone back to your flat to nap and eat, before meeting up with Jake, Liam, and the rest of their boys to head to the bar. Rafe and Topper were already pretty buzzed when you guys got there, playing a round of table tennis with you before the rest of the soccer team and their other friends pulled their attention away. You couldn’t help the way your whole body tensed when Rafe greeted Lily with a tight hug, humbling you with the confirmation that Rafe’s actions toward you weren’t anything special. You resolved yourself to a night of drinking and dancing your worries away with Liv and Liam instead.

“Alright, round of table tennis? You two against me and Y/n?” Liam challenges.

“Please, I saw Y/n playing before, you guys have nothing on us,” Olivia flashes an evil smile, her competitive side coming out.

“Oh it’s on Liv,” you laugh, as your foursome stakes your claim at the pong table. While Olivia and Jake gather the balls and paddles, you notice Liam grimacing off into the distance. You follow his line of sight, landing on Topper and Millie drunkenly dancing together across the bar, a bit too close for comfort.

“What is she doing with that geezer,” he mumbles.

“Liam! Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” you gasp in mock disbelief.

“I’m not jealous,” he scoffs, and you quickly realize that he actually is, even though you had just been joking. Your jaw falls slack as you put two and two together. Liam and Millie were always by each other’s side, at school, at the pub, when you were all watching a movie at his apartment a few nights ago. He would tease her relentlessly and his own words rang in your ears If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what. 

“Shut up! Shut up!,” you whisper yell, hand coming to your mouth. “I should have realized this whole time… of course you like Millie! Everything you’ve been telling me you think exists between me and Rafe has actually been about her! She’s your Uno reverse card!” You’re shocking even yourself at these revelations.

“No no no, you can’t use my own words of wisdom against me, that’s not how this works Y/n. So what, maybe I slightly give a shit about Millie? Who cares. Her and I both know that’s never gonna happen. I still stand by everything I said about you and Rafe so don’t think your getting off so easy on that.”

“Then tell me why you’re staring at Millie while Rafe hasn’t so much as glanced my way since the minute Lily Colts got here, hmm?”

“Oh Y/n, Y/n Y/n Y/n,” Liam tuts, shaking his head laughing as he turns to the game your group of four is about to begin. You don’t have the energy to argue with Liam over the matter right now, oblivious to the fact that Rafe had indeed been glancing your way, several times. In fact, he was glancing at you right now, as Liam reached his arm over yours to help you actually hold the paddle the right way. You just hadn’t been glancing back to notice, scared of what you may or may not see between him and Lily if you did. 

—

The night dies down and it’s time for the pilgrimage back to your building. You’re walking with Millie when Liam quickly falls in step with you two. You give him a knowing smirk, to which he responds with a glare behind Millie’s back, but you let the two banter as you fall behind, now walking alone. You stare ahead, eyes mindlessly settling on Lily walking in between Callum and Henry at the front of the pack. You don’t notice the pair of legs that begin moving in pace next to your own. 

“Tonight, by the way,” Rafe’s voice startles you as you jump next to him. He chuckles at the confusion written all over your face. “You asked last night when we’re watching the next episode. And my answer is tonight, L/n,” he states.

“Haven’t you been up since like the crack of dawn? Aren’t you tired?” you ask incredulously.

“Too tired for Game of Thrones? Never,” he scoffs, Liam’s words ringing in your ear. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.

“Well then tonight it is,” you smile. “Sorry about the french fries last night by the way,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk in front of you, cheeks burning.

“Seriously L/n, talk about a horrible throw. Room for improvement,” he jokes with a comforting smile, saving you from yourself.

“Good game by the way,” you add, grateful for the way he was letting you off. 

“Thanks,” he looks at you, shoving his hands in his pocket. You turn to look at him too, and after a few moments laughter is taking you both apart. Nothing funny was said. Neither of you knew why you were laughing. And yet it felt natural, not an ounce of awkwardness in the air.

As your whole group walks into the building, people begin to peel off, splitting towards staircases and off elevator stops. 

“I’m fucking beat,” yawns Topper, as you and all your flatmates file into your hall. 

“I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight,” Millie yawns in agreement. One by one everyone files off into their rooms. You open your door, backing into yours, Rafe across the hall from you backing into his. Laughter tugs at both your faces once again, as you let your doors close. You manage to change into your sweats and brush your teeth before you hear the light rap on your door. Rafe enters, in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants, your weakness. But you feel comfortable being alone with him now. The Rafe jitters had finally began to subside. 

“Alright L/n, episode 4, you ready for this?” he asks, plopping down in his spot next to you. 

“Oh I’m very ready,” you reply, sitting up to reach for your laptop which was resting by your feet. As you lean back, you find yourself in Rafe’s arm. He had extended it out before you sat back, effortlessly catching you against him. His hand rests casually on your arm, and you gulp, pressing play. You pray he can’t feel the way your heartbeat quickens and your body flushes. So much for those jitters being gone. 

The episode plays, you and Rafe making comments here and there before your chatter eventually dies down, leaving just the sound of the show to fill the room. You can feel Rafe’s body lean further and further down, becoming heavier and breathing slower. You very slowly turn to check, and sure enough he’s fast asleep. You sigh, and shut your laptop, careful not to stir him. You could easily shake him awake, tell him to go to his bed, but for some reason you don’t. You don’t mind him here. In fact, you almost prefer it, his body heat keeping you warm. He had already slept over once before and it clearly hadn’t been a big deal, so what was the harm in letting it happen again? You’re just friends after all, you remind yourself, not sure who you’re trying to convince. And so, the two friends fall asleep in the same bed again. 

---

🏷: @hopebaker​ @pogueslandia​ @mardema​

[retrievablememories]

picture me | johnny (m)

title: picture me pairing: vampire!johnny x black!reader genre: fantasy, romance, smut, fluff, angst summary: you meet a vampire-slash-photographer whose self-identity is increasingly lost to him, and you try to help him find some purpose again. word count: 18.3k warnings: age gap (cuz you know, vampires...but everyone is legal), mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species, self-identity issues/self-deprecation, general angst, sheltered!reader, mentions of blood and drinking blood, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of lube, unprotected sex (do not try at home), creampie, johnny is packing in this fic ok! a/n: today (the 28th) is my birthday, so i’m posting this 100% self-indulgent fic that i’ve been working on between requests since september. it was very hard to get johnny’s characterization right for this fic and idk if i actually succeeded but i’m not revising this for the 1000th time lol. i love this fic with my whole heart tho.

i haven’t seen many vampire fics that really explore the whole “doesn’t show up in mirrors/photos” concept (shout em out if you know em) and...there’s probably a reason for that, this shit is hard af to write and there are some logic issues but whatever 🤪

(the beginning quote is from “criminal,” stan taemin!!)

The moment I fall for you is the end of my innocence

—

He sits in the same coffee shop everyday, like it’s a habit he just can’t break. But who are you to judge? You’re there, too. Watching him like a creep. Or maybe like an interested coffee shop patron, trying to be discreet and failing at it.

He wasn’t hard to notice. You’d never been to this coffee shop before, but your friend recommended it to you mostly for their in-house-made pastries; she claimed the coffee was good, too, but she wasn’t much of a caffeine person. You decided to give it a try when you had time between classes and a moment to breathe, not needing to talk to this advisor or that professor.

You saw him immediately when you walked past the shop window. He was sitting at a table near the front, staring down at his phone with a small cup of coffee sitting in front of him. Its miniscule size was almost comical in contrast to his...everything. He was tall—that much was obvious even with him sitting down—and imposing, wearing all black. His hair was equally pitch-black, his bangs hanging to one side and the rest shaved in an undercut. If you didn’t know much better, you’d think you’d stepped back into 2007 and landed dead in the middle of the emo craze.

He was interesting to look at. Not in a bad way, but in a way you don’t see very often. Deciding to walk in before you made yourself look totally weird staring at him through the window, you’d stepped into the coffee shop, the small bell dinging above your head. A barista greeted you at your entrance. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man, to your left, still looking at his phone.

You’d given your order and waited for it to be ready before taking it to a table on the other side of the shop. From that vantage point, you had a good view of the man. You tried to keep your eyes on your food and your phone, not wanting to spend the whole time looking at him, but it was a little hard not to.

When you took a bite of your pastry, you quickly discovered it was just as delicious as your friend promised—probably even more so. You made a noise of approval before you could catch yourself, and you glanced around the shop in embarrassment to see if anyone nearby noticed. Didn’t seem like it, at first. But then you glanced over to the man again only to find him looking at you below his eyelashes with a small, amused smile on his lips. He only kept his gaze on you for a second before returning to his phone.

What? You hadn’t thought you were that loud. How did he hear you from over there, and above the noise of the café? Even now, you remember how embarrassed you’d felt, ducking your head and looking away.

The man finished his coffee not long after that; he slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up. You glanced up only momentarily when he stood, but your eyes soon slid back to his form when you noticed something odd. On the wall behind him, there was a big oval mirror sitting pretty in its elaborate silver frame. He stood just a few feet in front of it, yet there was no reflection of him. The only thing you could see was the other side of the café reflected back, with another man sitting alone at a booth enjoying his own coffee. The tall man’s reflection was nowhere to be found.

That was when you figured he must be a vampire.

You’d never met one before. At least, you didn’t think you had until then.

Unbeknownst to you, vampires are notoriously able to blend in more easily than most other supernatural beings—until faced with situations like that one in the coffee shop. Ultimately, there’s no faking a reflection no matter how hard you try to remain inconspicuous.

The man had caught your eye again. Thinking back on it, you aren’t sure of what expression you had on your face or what it must’ve looked like to him. It must’ve been something akin to surprise, though; you weren’t quick enough to disguise your reaction at his lack of a reflection.

He gave you another smile, though it felt sadder than the previous one, and walked out of the store, the small bell on the door ringing at his departure. He disappeared down the street in a swirl of black fabric, almost like something out of a movie, and you watched him retreat until you could see him no more.

You scraped your index fingernail over the wood table your food was resting on, your mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts. Your interest was piqued. And yet there was no way for you to know if you’d see him again.

—

At least, that’s what you believed then. Luckily for you, your subsequent visits to the coffee shop have proven fruitful; the strange, tall vampire is there more often than not, always in the same spot in front of that same mirror. Sometimes he reads a book, other times he looks at his phone, and other times still, he stares out the window at the passersby.

He acknowledges you whenever he sees you, either with a nod or a smile. You’ve never spoken to each other, though you know what his voice sounds like from hearing him talk to the baristas. It’s a nice voice, rich and handsome like him, and you find yourself gradually wanting to hear it spoken in your direction. But you aren’t sure how to talk to him, or what you should say.

There’s a lot you want to know about him and his vampirism, but you don’t think it’s fair to bombard him with questions right after meeting him—if you could somehow work up the nerve for that first step.

When you were young, your parents made sure to keep you safely sheltered away from anyone who could potentially be a vampire or any other nonhuman being. This game kept up until you went to college, where they could no longer “shield” you. Because of their lifelong fear and disgust, your knowledge of nonhuman beings is scarce and mostly inaccurate.

The man’s skin isn’t deathly pale like you’ve heard others say vampires always are. It’s nicely tanned, in fact. Nor are his eyes red, or his canine teeth abnormally sharp. And obviously, he has no aversion to sunlight, otherwise he wouldn’t be out here during the day. The only visible marker of his inhuman nature is his lack of a reflection. Maybe he’s not a vampire at all? Maybe he’s another type of being entirely. That only makes you more curious.

It’s not rare to come across supernatural beings, but they only make themselves known if they want to, or if it’s imperative to their survival. Most of them would rather quietly assimilate amongst humans or stay safe and hidden within their own communities. Humans are still too judgmental towards those who are different from themselves for nonhumans to feel truly safe or welcomed—at least not on a global scale. Small pockets of communities forged with human allies are helpful and sometimes vital for survival, but not always enough.

These small tidbits of information cycle through your mind as September gradually bleeds into October. You continue watching the thoughtful man in the coffee shop and making up your own secret theories about his life. You haven’t told anyone from school about this, because you already know the reaction would be nothing short of awful. Your parents would only let you go to school at the one university in the city that explicitly didn’t allow supernatural beings; it goes without saying that your classmates don’t view them in a positive light.

Part of you feels like you might be breaking the unspoken rules just by being at this coffee shop all the time and allowing this man to take up space in your mind. But who will know what’s inside your thoughts except you?

One day, your friend decides to accompany you on your lunch break, finally stopping by the café she recommended to you. The man is already there, as usual, and he smiles slightly when you and your friend enter. She doesn’t catch this, too busy wondering what she’s going to get off the menu today.

“I haven’t been here in forever, I wonder if Sam still remembers me?” You know Sam to be one of the baristas there, having read it on their name tag before.

“I doubt there are very many people who’d forget you,” you answer.

When you both have your food, you take a booth farther away from where the man sits, though you can still see him easily from this distance. Your friend settles into the seat in front of you.

You try to keep things inconspicuous throughout your conversation, but you must glance over at him one too many times, because your friend eventually raises her eyebrows questioningly. She turns around in her seat, making it obvious that she’s looking, and you groan as you keep your eyes in the opposite direction towards the window.

“Who’s that guy you keep staring at?”

You cough. “No one.”

“He’s obviously someone. Someone interesting enough to hold your attention.”

“I don’t know the man,” you say curtly. You shuffle your napkin and spoon aimlessly, your nervousness rising. What if he has some kind of enhanced hearing and can hear what you’re saying right now? He definitely heard you make that noise that first day.

Your friend looks at the ceiling and blows air out of her mouth. “Whatever. I’ll find out who he is sooner or later.”

You take a sip of your drink and lower your voice to just above a whisper. Although you want to leave the subject alone, you’re curious about one thing. “You mean you’ve never seen him before? This café was your hangout spot before it was mine.”

She shrugs. “No, I think I would’ve remembered someone as...visually striking as him. Why are we whispering, anyway? It’s not like he can hear us above all this noise.”

You think to yourself, I’m not so sure about that, but you merely shake your head.

You spend a few more minutes talking before movement catches the corner of your eye. At this point, it’s practically a reflex for you to look in that direction. You try not to, but your friend has already caught you and turns her head to spy, too. The man has gotten up for whatever reason to say something to one of the baristas at the counter. Your gaze darts back to your cup after you’ve gotten your eyeful, but you’re nearly startled into dropping the cup at your friend’s gasp.

Oh. The mirror.

She grips the edge of the table. “He’s a vampire…?”

You don’t know what to say to that, and you feel oddly guilty for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “U-um, I don’t know…?” You can hardly finish your thought before your friend is scrambling to grab her purse. She hurriedly stands out of the seat, tugging your arm as she does.

“Come on. We shouldn’t stay here.”

“Are you serious—?” You feel embarrassed heat rip through your body at her display; some other café-goers are already looking at her curiously, probably wondering what the hell she’s doing. She tugs more incessantly, and you already know she’ll get louder if you don’t get up now and defuse the situation. Leaving your half-full cup behind, you grab your things and follow her out of the store, keeping your eyes firmly on her back as you pass by the man. You don’t know if he looked up, or if he could sense the reason for your sudden departure—you’ve never left the shop before him until now—and you don’t want to know.

Neither of you talk until you’re well down the street and around the corner. “That wasn’t necessary,” you huff, your hands still sweating from the spiked adrenaline at suddenly being rushed out.

“Yes it was! We all know bloodsuckers and all these other weirdos are dangerous...even if they think they’re being well-intentioned by living among humans. I hope you don’t go back there.”

“Whatever...you’re the one who told me to visit the café,” you mumble, unable to muster up the energy to say anything more. You both know very well she can’t tell you where to go, but you hope she doesn’t mention this to your other acquaintances on campus and make it into a bigger deal than it is.

When you part ways with your friend and get back to your dorm, you realize you’re missing your planner. The planner with all your upcoming assignment dates in it. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, knowing it must’ve happened in the chaos of her pulling you out of the shop. Maybe if you’re really lucky, it’ll still be there, picked up by an employee or simply left untouched. Knowing how many people go through that café in a day, you’re not optimistic.

For the first time since visiting the quaint little shop, you’re not anticipating returning and seeing the man again, afraid he’ll ignore you or look at you with distaste—like you’re just another unsympathetic human. And would he be wrong to think that? You’re only strangers to each other.

You try not to dwell on it too hard when you go to bed that night.

When lunch rolls around the next day, you hesitate a couple times on your way to the café, not wanting to show up. However, the desire to see what became of your planner pushes you forward. You don’t even have to stay; if it’s there, you’ll take it and leave. If it’s not—oh well. You can still leave. It’s not hard to buy another.

He’s there when you arrive, of course.

He nods at you when you step inside, though he doesn’t smile as he’s become accustomed to doing. You nod back, but you can’t ignore the renewed rush of embarrassment you feel. You linger at the entrance for a second longer, wondering if maybe you should say something. Apologize, even? But what if he really didn’t know what was going on yesterday? Then how odd would you look for bringing it up?

You decide to move on and go back to the booth to search for your belongings, but his voice stops you. This takes you by surprise.

“Did you come back for this?”

You turn to him to see him holding your planner in his hand. You stare, momentarily dumbfounded, and almost shake your head before realizing it is yours. Definitely the same sticker-covered, scribbled-all-over planner.

“Oh—y-yeah. Thank you.” He passes it to you, though you notice he’s very careful not to let your hands touch. You’re a little perplexed about why, but then the rumors about vampires having cold skin pop up in your mind. Maybe that’s actually true, too. “I usually don’t lose things so easily, but…” Your voice falters, and you don’t know how to finish that sentence without bringing up the other day’s events.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he replies, “It happens to all of us sometimes...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my camera.”

“You take pictures?” you ask, a tinge of curiosity in your voice.

He nods. “I take photos of anything that interests me. Which often ends up being everything I see. I work at an art museum, so I guess having an eye for photography comes in handy.” He hesitates for a second, then says, “I could show you some?” He waves his phone, indicating that the photos are there.

“Oh, sure.” The man gestures for you to sit down in the empty chair in front of him, and you do so. He swipes through his phone a few times until he settles on what he’s searching for, then puts the device on the table and slides it to you. You lean forward to look at it and see that it displays an album full of pictures, simply titled with the emoji “🌌.”

“It’s okay, you can pick it up.” He chuckles. You pick up the phone and swipe through the numerous pictures. Many of them are nighttime shots of the moon, trees, half-empty streets, darkened storefronts. Others depict nature scenes at sunset or the beginning of sunrise, with the sky colored in darker hues. No matter what the subject matter is, they all look to be professionally taken, even for an iPhone.

“Wow, these are nice. You said you work at a museum…are you a professional photographer, too?”

The man shrugs, and as you look at his slight grin, you realize you still don’t know his name. “Something like that, I guess.”

“You should be if you aren’t already,” you say, looking through more photos. “I’m sure you’d make a lot of money.” When you reach the end of the album, you go to hand the phone back to him but realize he’ll probably want to avoid contact again, so you slide it across the table. He takes it and slips it into his pocket.

“I don’t really care about the money,” he responds. “I just like it because…” He trails off, unsure how to convey his thoughts, wondering if he should even get that personal with a stranger. “It...helps me pass the time.” He’s not quite satisfied by that answer—it doesn’t feel like enough—but it’s all he can think of on the spot.

“Well, that’s nice too. It’s always good to have a hobby just for the sake of it...not for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

“Do you have one?” He takes a sip of his coffee. You don’t expect to be asked about your own interests, and your mind goes blank as you try to think. Why does this always happen when I’m asked these kinds of questions?

“Um, just different things here and there.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, amused.

“It’s not that, I just don’t have a ton of hobbies or anything. I’m kinda boring, so…” And wasn’t allowed to do much of anything until I left home.

“Being boring isn’t always a bad thing.”

You lean back in your seat, shrugging slightly. “Maybe if you see it that way. My friends don’t.”

“Would one of those happen to be the same one who dragged you out of here yesterday?” He speaks casually, putting his cheek in his hand. You slump further down in your seat, feeling exposed. Of course there was no escaping this topic. He notices your mood shift and shakes his head. “You don’t have to feel so bad about it. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry for all that mess,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes. “Really, I am.” You stand up from the seat, gripping your planner. “Thanks again for this. I don’t want to take up any more of your time today.” You’re about to turn to leave when he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know…you could talk with me whenever you feel like it.” That’s the last thing you expect him to say. His voice takes on a quality that’s...not what you’d call begging, but it’s clear he’d enjoy some company. Maybe he’s doing this for your benefit as well as his own, because it’s obvious how your eyes always stray to his little corner.

You nod, giving him an apprehensive smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.”

The rest of your day after that is uneventful, full of classes and unexciting lectures, but you keep thinking of one thing. Though he appears to enjoy his time in the coffee shop, how lonely must he really be? There’s never anyone else around him. His eyes when he’d spoken to you held a certain sadness.

And you still didn’t get his name.

You don’t see him for the next few days, mostly because you aren’t at the café. You’ve gotten busy with a new project and haven’t had as much time to return to the coffee shop, mostly spending your time in the library instead.

When you finally get a chance to buy lunch outside campus, he’s not there. This disappoints you more than you thought it would, and you wonder what his absence means. Did he just decide not to come today, or has he found another place to frequent? You kind of hope the second option isn’t the case, though you also don’t know why you’re even caring this much about where someone else goes on their own time.

You get a drink to-go this time, deciding you’ll just take it back to the library and continue your studies there. The entryway bell rings behind you as you wait for your order to be made, though you don’t pay it much attention; half of your mind is still occupied with what you need to do next for your project.

When you turn around to leave the shop with your drink, you’re surprised to see the man standing there, waiting to get his own coffee. “You’re late,” you blurt out. You immediately feel silly for saying it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He gives you a slight smile. “Yes, I am.” Then he spots your to-go cup. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh, well,” you glance at your drink, “are you staying?”

He nods as he steps up to the counter. “Yeah, I’m staying. My offer’s still open, by the way.”

Right. The offer to talk to him sometimes. You’re tempted to stay awhile and talk to him now, though you don’t even know what about. Your project? That’s boring. Him being a vampire? Too invasive. Your school? Also boring, and probably not the best idea considering which one you attend.

“I...think I’ll stay, then.”

You both sit at his usual table, with you grinning nervously.

“How are you? I noticed you hadn’t showed up in a while,” he asks, settling back in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, I’m just busy with school stuff. These teachers don’t give us a break.” You laugh a little, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He grins. “I never did go to college, but I’ve always heard others talk about how tiring it is. And expensive.”

“They’re right.” You roll your eyes at the thought of it. “But I guess it’ll all be worth it in the end. Maybe. If the economy isn’t in the toilet.” The sound of his laughter is nice, and you’re glad you could make him laugh. “Also, I’m sorry—I don’t know how this flew under the radar, but I don’t know your name.”

He shrugs. “Nothing to apologize for, really. It’s Johnny.”

You tell him your name, too. “Since I haven’t seen you lately...how are you doing?” You circle your hands around your to-go cup, feeling its warmth transfer to your palms as you await his answer.

“I think I can say I’m the same as always—which is fine. Life slows down a little when you have a lot of time on your hands.” Johnny’s lips quirk up at that, and you think he might be referring to his vampirism. Your eyes widen a little.

“What’s that like? Having so much free time. I wouldn’t know much about that right now, but…”

“Maybe not as pleasant as you think it’d be. But there’s good in it. Like coming and going when you want to. And you can take up whatever interests you want without worrying as much about busy schedules.” You already know he’s alluding to his photography. “I do like having a job, though…it gives me structure.”

“You’re probably right…I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I had a ton of free time…like, which hobbies to pick up first.” You consider how you initially thought about him being lonely and wonder if that’s one of the unpleasant parts he hinted to. “Speaking of hobbies...did you take any new pictures lately?”

Johnny nods. “Most of them were on my camera this time, but some are on my phone. You want to see?”

“Yes!”

Johnny lets you have his phone again to look through the newest pictures he’s taken. There are varying shots of car-lined streets and storefronts, some of the latter decorated with glowing jack-o-lanterns for the onset of October. A pigeon sits on a streetlamp during the daytime, holding its head up like royalty upon a throne. In another image, a stray cat and her kittens huddle in an alley, the babies grooming each other while the mother looks quizzically at the camera.

You recognize a few photos from the nearby park; he also had some pictures of it the last time you looked. “Do you go to this park often?”

“Yeah, it offers some great shots. It’s especially pretty if you go just before the sun sets...the light filters through the tree leaves and it looks kinda like a kaleidoscope.”

“Ah, I’ve never seen that before…” you say a little sadly. Your parents didn’t much like taking you to that park when you were younger because of how far it is from their house. And since living away from them, you’ve only been able to visit it during the early hours of the day—like now.

Johnny looks closely at you. “Would you ever want to?”

“If it’s as pretty as you say, I should.” You slide the phone back across the table to him, not catching what he’s trying to hint at as you keep talking. “Do you go anywhere else besides here and the park?” As soon as you say it, you realize this might sound a little rude and try to make a quick save. “I mean, do you have any other favorite places? I’m not trying to say you don’t have a life or anything!”

Johnny laughs at your slight panic at thinking you’ve offended him. “Nothing too out-there, I guess. The bookstore, the photography store, the theater. Pretty much all the same places others visit.”

“The movies are fun.” You trace your finger across the table’s surface, thinking of your own favorite spots. “Me and my friends like to go downtown. There are a lot of cute little shops down there…”

You and Johnny talk for a while longer, and you almost forget you have to get back to campus until you glance at the wall clock. “Oh no, I’m gonna be late.” Flustered, you jump out of your seat and crumple your empty cup. “Sorry to cut it short, Johnny, but I gotta go back now.”

He smiles good-naturedly and nods, his dark bangs sweeping his face. “I understand.” As he watches you gather your things and get ready to go, he speaks up again. “Actually, if you want to see the park at sunset sometime...I could show you? It’s up to you.”

You pause, suddenly curious at the thought of seeing him outside the café. In the back of your mind, you feel a little paranoid and afraid of your friend or maybe even your parents seeing you there with him, though the latter is extremely unlikely. It’s hard to shake that familiar fear of judgment and ostracism when it’s been ingrained in you since childhood. “That sounds good. If it’s not any trouble for you…?”

“Never too much trouble. I usually get off around 4 on Fridays, just before the sun sets at 5. Unless the weekend is better for you?”

You nod, holding your books tighter to your chest. “Friday will work for me! I’ll meet up with you then.”

Johnny smiles. “Great; I’ll see you then, kind stranger.”

Maybe he says it to be joking or quirky, to sound like one of those characters in a movie or drama, but it makes you smile. Nodding to him again, you step out of the café and rush towards the direction of your school. Johnny watches as you retreat, your roles reversed.

You meet up with Johnny at the park that Friday, just as you both agreed. You spot him sitting on a bench near the park entrance, waiting on your arrival.

Johnny’s wardrobe is still mostly dark, but it’s a little lighter than usual today. He’s changed things up with a white polo shirt underneath his black sweater. Seeing him dressed like this, you wonder what he’d be like as a student, or maybe even a university professor.

He stands up when you get closer, hearing the sound of your footsteps approaching and turning towards you. His camera sits safely around his neck, the lens catching in the light of the sun.

When you stop in front of him, he smiles at you warmly. You try to relax into the genuineness of that smile and ignore the still-lingering traces of anxiety about being out with him. “Hi, Johnny!”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You and Johnny walk around the park as he looks for something interesting to shoot. He snaps a few shots of the trees, fallen leaves, bushes, and other natural elements along the way, though it seems like he hasn’t quite captured what he wants yet.

“Are you looking for something specific?” you ask, peering at his camera as he holds it in his hands.

“There’s an aster bush around here,” he responds. “It hadn’t fully bloomed yet the last time I was here, but it should be open by now.”

It turns out he’s right as you two finally come up on the bush. Its blooms make bright purple smudges against the rest of the landscape, which is a monochrome red-and-orange palette from the leaves changing their hues. You watch as he comes up to the bush carefully and quietly, like it’s a small animal he’s afraid to scare away. Johnny is very attentive while taking pictures of it, always conscious of getting the correct lighting and securing the exact angles he wants to capture. “Compassionate” is not a word you’d usually associate with the act of taking photos, but that’s the only word you can currently think of to describe this display. He treats the flowers with a peculiar sense of respect, as if they’re a human subject.

After he’s gotten the images he wants, Johnny offers you his camera to take a few of your own. You’re anxious about holding his prized possession and are afraid you’ll find a way to mess something up, but he promises you it’s fine. You take a few shots of the sky, still with a few wisps of clouds left, and a nearby tree that’s almost stripped bare of leaves. You know the shots will probably end up blurry from your unsteady hands, but Johnny tells you you’ve done a good job anyway.

Something about getting his approval makes a pleasant warmth settle in your chest.

As you both walk down a long trail, you finally ask him, “Sorry if this is invasive, but I was wondering how old are you? Like...as a vampire.” Your voice becomes hesitant on the word vampire, even though you’re the only two in this part of the park.

He chuckles a bit. “I’m 85.” You try not to look surprised. “I’ve been turned for 60 years. Old, but probably a little younger than most vampires you’d think of.”

“Kinda,” you say quietly. “They’re always like 2,000 years old in movies.”

“The ancient vampires are purebloods. They keep to themselves and avoid mingling with turned vampires, let alone humans. Some people are even skeptical if they exist. Supposedly, they use humans as servants or blood banks.” He gives you an apologetic look after saying this, though you don’t really know why. You don’t get the feeling he’d do that to another being, but he is still mostly a stranger... “At least, that’s what my mentor told me.”

Your curiosity is roused at all this new knowledge. “You had a mentor?”

“An older woman. She was also a turned vampire.”

“Turned, huh…”

Johnny nods, toeing at a small pile of leaves on the ground. “She went away eventually, said people are meant to pass in and out of each other’s lives. I don’t think she ever had intentions to stay. But I enjoyed her company while she was there.” Johnny stops at a short bridge above a small manmade lake, and you both look down into the water.

You place your arms on the bridge railing so you can lean over more. You notice he doesn’t have a reflection in the water, and this startles you more than you expected. Before meeting this strange man, you’d never thought much before about why vampires don’t have mirror reflections, but it seems even more unnatural to see this phenomenon happen again in the lake.

You find yourself looking at the side of Johnny’s face, trying to read his expression as he peers into the water’s depths. He turns to you, and you flinch at being caught staring, but he only smiles slightly. You force yourself to form words and break the silence. “What—what did you do after she left?”

“Lived on my own. She taught me a lot of things to help me live independently as a vampire, so it wasn’t too difficult to get along without her...but emotionally? A different story.”

“You sound like you had a very close relationship with her.”

“Yes. Quite close…” Johnny’s tone suggests something deeper, more intimate than a regular friendship. You feel a bit astounded at the idea of him having an older, more worldly lover while being only a newly changed vampire. Your reaction makes you feel foolish, inexperienced. Still, you can’t help imagining a scenario of them living in a big, dark mansion somewhere in the mountains, rolling around in a bed with bloody red sheets—and maybe drinking from the occasional naïve, misled human hiker.

Strangely, too, you feel jealous at his freedom, his ability to go wherever and do whatever with whoever he wants without overbearing relatives always just a step away.

You continue staring at the ripples as they circle in and out of the water’s surface, the motions triggered by a small orange leaf falling into the lake. You’re unsure of what could be the right thing to say to his admission, so you blurt out whatever comes to mind next. “You said she taught you to live independently as a vampire. What does that mean? How do you get...you know. Blood?”

“There are ways,” Johnny says cryptically, which makes your own blood rush faster. He turns to you with a grin, like he finds your naivety endearing. “It’s nothing drastic, though. At least, not for me. I never drink directly.” It does make sense that there are other ways to drink human blood without taking it straight from their necks, though you can only speculate on which methods he prefers. “Drinking directly is lethal, and often not worth it.”

“So, it’s true that vampire bites can kill?” You watch as Johnny pushes himself off the railing, and you follow him as he continues down the trail.

“It’s not false. But it’s never really that simple.” Johnny’s answer is mysterious, and he doesn’t elaborate further. He turns to you. “Where did you hear that, anyway? Your university? The one that bans all nonhuman beings?”

“You know where I go to school?” You feel embarrassed, thinking he must assume you’re like the rest of the student body who hates nonhumans but still nurtures an odd obsession with them.

“I saw it on your notebook one day, the school insignia. I’m not a stalker, by the way.” You laugh only slightly, and Johnny seems crestfallen when he notices your apprehension. “I don’t care if you attend school there. Just because you do doesn’t mean you think the way they do.”

“You must think I’m some weird opportunist, then,” you mutter, heat finding its way to your face. “Asking you all these questions...I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think anything except that you’re a pleasant person to be around.”

You’re quiet for a moment, letting the compliment sink in. You think you should probably give him one of his own, but before you can, he says, “Look. The sun’s already setting.” Just like he told you before, the dying rays filter through the tree leaves and create impossibly intricate patterns on your surroundings. You hold your hand out and watch the latticework that the leaves create dance over your open palm.

You let Johnny take a picture of your hand with the tree shadows flitting over it, but you shy away from the camera’s lens when he points it higher to your face, a questioning look in his eyes. “Maybe some other day.”

You walk around for a while longer until the sky bleeds into a dark purple. “I guess I should be going soon. It’s getting late,” you say, though you’re also a bit sad over your evening with Johnny meeting its end.

“Do you want me to take you back to campus? You shouldn’t walk back alone. My car is just in the parking lot there.” He points to it where it sits in the distance.

You look at Johnny with a confused gaze. “But you can’t come on campus. They have...things to ward off vampires.” Like gates made of pure silver, displaying intimidating, elaborately designed crosses. You don’t know if any of it actually works, but it’s probably better not to find out.

Johnny doesn’t seem bothered by this information. “Yeah…I know. I can just drop you at the street across from the main gate.”

You hesitate a moment longer but eventually agree. He is right; you’d rather not walk alone at night, and getting a ride with him is better—and cheaper—than calling for a rideshare.

The ride to the college is fairly quiet, with the radio filling the silence. It’s not an awkward type of stillness, at least, which you’re grateful for.

As he said he would, Johnny parks on the side of the street that sits in front of the main gate, just outside the immediate vicinity of the campus. The metal crosses stare back at the both of you, glinting in the light of nearby streetlamps. You turn your face away from them, biting the inside of your cheek.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks again for the ride. I guess I’ll see you back at the shop next week, yeah?” Again, you get the urge to say something, anything, to remedy or cover up the foreboding source of discomfort sitting just in front of you, but there’s no one sentence you could say to wipe away decades of hatred.

Johnny nods and smiles, and still he shows no signs of being disturbed. He doesn’t cast another glance at the gates. “It’s no problem. See you then.”

You get out of his car and cross the street to get inside the gate; it’s early enough in the evening for it to still be open. Any later, and it’d be locked shut to even humans. You risk another wave at him before turning back around and heading for your dorm, which sits a few yards from the entrance. Johnny lets the car idle on the side of the street until you’ve walked into the dorm, and only then does he drive away.

It doesn’t take very long for you to warm up to Johnny inviting you to other places. The next time you and him go somewhere other than the coffee shop, you accompany him as he buys some film for his camera on one of his free days. You don’t know a ton about photography, so you’re more than happy to let him tell you all about how film works and why he buys certain kinds over others.

The place he frequents is a specialty photography shop that still carries older varieties of film—ones that fell out of favor once digital cameras became a thing. The store looks noticeably old, but not in an unkempt or decrepit way. You can tell it’s been around for a while, holding all kinds of history in its structure.

“There are so many different types.” You look over a shelf of film rolls in awe. “How can you tell them all apart?”

Johnny laughs. “It gets easier if you’ve been doing it for a while…or a few decades.” He picks one up from a row of them and holds it in front of you. “35mm is the most common type, which is what you’ll find the most of when you look through any film shop. That’s what I use.”

He sets that one down and walks past another display of film rolls, gesturing toward them. “There’s also 120 and 220 film formats here…those work for even older cameras, sorta like ones you’d see in 1930s movies. You can even turn a film camera into a digital camera.”

You nod to his words, looking over what seems like millions of film canisters—and occasionally glancing at the lines of his broad back as he walks ahead of you. “You should teach a photography class. I’d be more willing to listen to you than some old professor.”

Johnny snickers. “Huh, I don’t know. Not a professor, but I am old.”

You both continue walking through the store, with Johnny giving you the rundown on every item that catches your interest.

Like the coffee shop, there’s another mirror in this store. Many more, actually—there are whole rows of them on a series of shelves, all in varying sizes and shapes. They create a fragmented view of your form as you stand in front of them, though you don’t initially realize you’ve crossed into their glassy line of sight. You’re busier with looking at a roll of film Johnny’s handed you. When you notice your reflection shifting in your peripheral view, you look up.

Johnny’s only a few feet behind you, and you know this because you can hear him and feel his presence. Yet, it’s strange to see yourself as the only person in the aisle.

Eventually, he notices what’s got you preoccupied and comes to stand next to you. Though you see him clearly in front of your eyes, there’s no trace of him in the glass reflections.

Suddenly, you’re hit with the aching loneliness of it—how it must feel to never see yourself. You can see him with your own eyes, and so can everyone else who encounters him, but what must it be like to be virtually invisible outside of other peoples’ perceptions of you? You almost feel utterly alone even though you know he’s beside you.

Noticing your sudden melancholy, Johnny takes the film roll from your hand and tosses it up in the air, making it look like it’s moving on its own in the mirrors. He means to lighten the mood, if only to see the cloudiness disappear from your expression. It works to a degree, though you still feel downcast deep below.

“It’s not good to dwell on it.” Johnny presses the film roll back into your hand, still carefully avoiding skin contact. He has no problem meeting your eyes, though, and you shyly look away from his dark gaze after a few prolonged moments.

“You’re right,” you say softly, turning back to the aisle and away from the rows of mirrors.

—

You and Johnny head to the coffee shop after your trip to the photography store. Once you get your drinks and sit down in your usual spot, he speaks suddenly. “Something’s wrong.”

Your eyes dart around the shop, thinking he’s referring to one of the patrons around you. “What? What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out a bit panicked. He doesn’t want to laugh, but he does.

“No, I mean...something’s wrong with you. You seem far away.”

“Oh…” You wonder if you should even bring it up and potentially ruin the mood. But you have been curious for weeks now, and you don’t think you’ll get a trustworthy answer by asking anyone other than him. “I just...I was wondering why you don’t have a reflection. I know it’s a vampire thing, but I’ve never really known why...you don’t need to answer, though. Like you said, it’s not good to dwell on it.”

Johnny makes a motion like a half-nod once your question is revealed, his eyes darting to the window and back to the table. His fingers trace across the rim of his coffee cup, a thoughtful but stormy expression on his face, and you’re afraid you shouldn’t have reawakened this topic. “You know...being undead means being in two places at once.”

“Two places?”

“We are caught between the living world and the world of the dead. Something that’s not really supposed to exist, yet…” He’s quiet for a moment. “You can only imagine the kind of issues and side effects that can cause. One of them being no reflection.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you say. “Two planes of existence...what does it mean to be a part of the world of the dead?”

“Our blood runs slower. Ours is more like sludge compared to yours. The heart beats only a few times per minute. Don’t need to eat or sleep, either, though many vampires still do.” Johnny pauses. “How much do you really know about vampires?”

“I don’t know much about any of this...stuff.” You gesture vaguely, meaning all supernatural beings and not just vampires. “No one ever told me these things growing up, and it’s hard to tell truth from fiction at school. People will say anything, horrible things, and you just take it at face value, I guess. I never really thought to try to find the reality.” You sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world who doesn’t know anything.”

“Learning is good. You can always learn. I don’t think it’s too late for that.” Johnny’s voice is a little lighter. “Anyway, everyone’s knowledge is different. Sometimes it slips my mind that everyone doesn’t know what it’s like to live as a vampire, though the world never lets me forget for long.”

“Then…do you hang out with other vampires who do understand? Or…maybe humans who can sympathize?”

Johnny gives a humorless laugh. “Most humans are hesitant to interact with us, if not full-out terrified or disgusted. At the museum...it’s less pronounced because all the employees already know. They…tolerate it. But every time someone else realizes what I am and doesn’t take well to it?” He shakes his head, acts like he’ll say something else, and then abandons that line of thought. “And do you really think I’d want to spend my free time around other bloodsuckers?” He tries to play it off as a joke, but you’re more inclined to think he actually feels that way. You can only nod, feeling bad for him but also a little disturbed by his view of his own kind.

“I think you’re a kind person, and you being a vampire doesn’t affect that,” you say hesitantly. “I like talking to you. And even if you feel that way about other vampires, I…wish you wouldn’t feel that about yourself.”

Johnny remains quiet, but he nods. You wonder about the struggle occurring in his mind. The only outward hint of his uneasy state shows in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tense set of his mouth. With his right hand resting on the table, he rubs his fingers together absentmindedly, like he’s analyzing your words. You have a sudden and startling desire to hold his hand, to twine your fingers together and feel his skin on yours for the first time, but you don’t dare cross that boundary.

He finally replies with, “You’re much kinder to me, an old and bitter vampire, than you probably should be. But maybe that’s a good thing about you.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” you agree, your voice low. “Every living being needs companionship. Good companionship, anyway.”

The corners of Johnny’s lips shift in something reminiscent of a smile. He turns a rueful gaze once again to the window, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “Aren’t I lucky to have yours, then.”

On a day when you don’t have as many responsibilities to juggle, you visit Johnny at the art museum after his working hours are up. He’d already invited you to come to the museum any day you felt like so he could show you around. 

When you get there, he’s waiting in the visitor’s lobby for you, framed by receding sunlight as the day starts fading into night. He looks the same as he always does when you see him in the café on his lunch breaks, but within the context of the museum, he suddenly seems more…alive? Vibrant? He could’ve served as a muse for one of the many statuesque, perfectly proportional sculptures in the museum, and you’d never know anything different.

Your heartbeat increases at the sight of him, just enough to be outside the normal range.

“Hi, Johnny. I hope your day went well?”

“It was fine, nothing too crazy. But it’s better now.” And he smiles at you, sincere enough to make your heart ache.

“Oh—that’s great.” That’s it? You scold yourself internally, but you aren’t quick enough to think up a witty reply to his comment before the topic shifts.

“Is there anything in particular you wanna see first?” Johnny asks, leading you further into the museum.

“I guess I hadn’t thought too deeply about that…do you have a favorite exhibit? I want to see what you like.”

Johnny smiles faintly. “Let’s see, then.”

The dark-haired man takes you to a section of the museum filled with oil paintings, all by one singular artist. At first, all you see is varying shades of black and gray and red, with some white splashed in between. When you begin looking at the paintings more closely, it’s easier to see that each one depicts a different scene of chaos. Maybe a sort of organized chaos, but disarray all the same.

There is one picture that holds a clearer subject than the rest. One of the oil paintings is of a vampire—obvious by the fangs—with bloodied lips and anguished eyes. You pause when you catch sight of it, your steps stilled by the sheer frenzy in the other being’s painted eyes. Their hands reach out for the viewer as if begging for an escape that can only be provided by whoever’s observing.

“This one was painted by a fellow vampire, you know. The same one who did all the rest of the paintings in this gallery,” Johnny explains. He points at the placard next to the painting that displays the artist’s name and a short description of the piece. The word fellow comes off his tongue wrapped in cynicism. “And it was one of the ones I personally chose for this exhibit.”

You glance at him, a tinge of surprise blooming in your chest. “Really?”

He nods. “Who better to depict the ills of vampirism than a vampire themselves? I thought it was a…fascinating change of pace from all the humans who try and fail to do so, ironic as that is.”

If you look at the painting for long enough, you think you can recognize sadness in the corners of the vampire’s eyes—pure, unadulterated sadness. Different from anguish or panic. A similar mask of sadness you’ve seen on the man next to you.

You say nothing for a while. You simply feel the painful throb of your heart in your chest and listen to the small sounds around you. Even now, there are still other people exploring the museum and walking through this very exhibit, but you can’t hear or see any of them. Johnny notices the disconcerted look on your face, and his forehead creases. “But I’m sure you want to see something less…morbid than this, right? Come on.”

“Uh, I-I don’t mind,” you insist, even though you feel like you’ve just awoken from a painful trance by the sound of his voice. But he’s already gesturing for you to follow him elsewhere.

The next set of paintings you end up in front of are a series of sunflower studies. One frame depicts the long green stems; another provides an up-close view of their lined petals. One zooms in close on the flower’s brown center, only small glimpses of yellow left at the edges of the frame.

“This is definitely very different.” You look at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. “But it fits you. I see why you like it.” You remember him back in the park, taking careful pictures of the aster bush and of your hands…and then offering to take one of you. You don’t know why that last one makes your stomach jump.

“I thought you might like it.” Johnny’s eyes linger on your face as he observes your reaction to the paintings. He’s seen these flowers probably a hundred times by now in this permanent exhibit, but the wonder in your expression is new to him.

—

You both walk through a few more exhibitions after that, all with different subjects and mediums—some consist of sculptures, others are clay vases and figures. There’s still a lot to see in the museum, but you’re starting to get hungry, and you know Johnny has already heard your stomach growling.

After the 2nd time it happens and you think you might melt from embarrassment, he grins at you and makes a suggestion. “Let’s go to my office. I’ll get my things and we can eat. The restaurant here is pretty good—or at least that’s what everyone else says…”

When you get to his office, you feel almost like you’ve stepped into a room from years past. Your gaze drifts across his desk immediately; it’s not sleek and modern like you’d expect, considering the rest of the museum’s aesthetic, but wooden and heavy and vintage-looking. It’s olden quality resembles everything else in his personal space. Even his desk chair, a big and plush thing, feels vintage with its soft leather and rustic design.

This feeling is far from a bad thing, though. You enjoy the aged look of the bookcases, the picture frames, the chairs, the small decorations here and there—everything about this room.

Johnny notices how you look around, studying everything in sight, and smiles. “It’s not the most modern, but I like it.”

“It’s perfect. Like a world of its own.”

“A woman of taste, I see.” Johnny puts a hand over his heart, giving an expression like he’s truly touched, and you can only grin sheepishly. When he has his belongings, he leads you out and locks the door behind him.

“Let’s see what they have on the menu today, then.”

—

You get dinner at the museum’s restaurant, just as Johnny recommended, and he even decides to eat too. Maybe he does it so you won’t look odd being the only one eating, or because he really just wants to; he doesn’t let on. Either way, sitting across from him like this in a fancy restaurant with both of you having a nice meal feels almost like a date. You let that thought amble around for a few minutes longer before tucking it back into one of your mind’s many small niches.

“I’ll probably be digesting this for the next few weeks,” he says jokingly, pulling a mock-disappointed face at his plate.

“That sounds like the worst constipation in history.” He snorts at your comment, his eyes creasing as he laughs. You notice he has a dimple when he smiles, and your grin mirrors his. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh quite so genuinely before, but now that you’ve experienced it, you want to hear it again and again.

Anything is preferable to the perpetual gloom, always slinking around the corner.

—

When Johnny gets back home after dropping you off at the university, he undresses himself and showers and pulls on his bedclothes, which are nothing more than his underwear and a pair of sweatpants. His upper canines ache in his gums the entire time he goes through these motions, like two pulses of red-hot heat positioned on either side of his mouth.

He takes a blood bag from the fridge and drinks it in bed, leaning his arms against his knees. A sudden remembrance manifests itself in his mind; he hears the hazy echo of his mother’s decades-past voice in his head, reprimanding him for eating in bed. A sharp pain grips his chest, and he tries to send it back to the depths where it belongs.

When the blood hits his stomach, the pain is eclipsed by the bloodlust, which is no better. His fangs drop immediately, spiking into his lower lip. Johnny closes his eyes and, very gingerly, allows himself to draw a picture of you in his mind, of your blood in his mouth and your heartbeat roaring in his ears. The way your blood would flow out so delicately, crashing into his tastebuds like the high tide. He is usually better than this at curtailing his bloodlust, not even letting it reach the point of his canines hurting—he can’t remember the last time that’s happened—but being around you sets him on edge. Awakens him in some strange, raw way.

That only makes him more wary. And more guilty about imagining himself drinking your blood. He shouldn’t even be around you if he’s losing his grip on his hard-won control. But although it makes him feel ashamed, it also causes his heart to rush.

He drains the blood bag to the last possible drop. To his relief, it calms him significantly, though the thoughts of you don’t leave. More innocent ones now, of your outing earlier in the evening. Deep beneath, they are tinged with his ever-present guilt at his vampiric nature.

Johnny doesn’t need the sleep, but he drifts off anyway, if only to quiet the conflict sending daggers into his mind.

You’ve known Johnny for a few weeks now, not counting the time you spent silently staring at him in the café, but you find yourself intertwining yourself further into his life. You end up visiting his apartment sooner than you anticipated. You didn’t think of anything as ridiculous as him living in a coffin or sleeping in the rafters like a bat, but you also had a hard time imagining what his place might look like.

You come over on a weekend when you have more time to simply hang out and not worry so much about anything else.

Like usual, he waits in that spot on the side of the street for you to come out. In the daytime, you’re more apprehensive about him being here and someone potentially seeing him and trying to cause trouble for him, but there’s a part of you that likes the rebellious aspect of it. And if he truly doesn’t mind coming near the campus to pick you up, you don’t have much issue with him doing it.

Johnny’s apartment is clean—and a little sparser than you’d expected. Maybe he’s a fan of minimalism. One side of the wall is taken up by a wide bookcase, which features a bunch of different knickknacks, books, and a collection of larger hardcovers that look like photo albums. On the other walls are a few framed pictures of different scenes, and you assume they’re ones he must’ve taken.

“This is a nice place,” you say as he takes your jacket for you and puts it up. “It must cost quite a bit, too…” You sit down on the couch, stroking the soft material of it.

Johnny shrugs. “Thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle...being nearly a century old gives you plenty of time to save money.” He appears charmingly self-satisfied when he’s able to make you laugh. “Do you want anything?”

“Water is fine…thank you.” Johnny nods and goes off to the kitchen.

Despite trying to keep your eyes on the wall photos, your gaze follows him as he leaves. You discreetly watch him move around his kitchen. With his dark clothes, he’s like a splash of black paint against the pale tile and stainless steel.

There are blood packs in Johnny’s fridge. Lots of them. You know because you saw them from your vantage point on the couch when he opened the fridge door. They look like the blood bags you’d see in a hospital, which makes you wonder how he even gets access to those. Another mystery you struggle to wrap your head around.

He comes back to the living room with your water, and you take it gratefully, though you also feel a little awkward. You think maybe the blood bags are something you shouldn’t have seen, although you know he probably would’ve made more effort to hide them or put them away if that were the case.

“You have a good supply of blood, a nice apartment, and a great job. Does every vampire get these kinds of perks?” Admittedly, it sounded better in your head. Your attempt to stave off the awkward feeling—which was really only coming from your end—only makes it more intense. Johnny laughs dryly in response. You can’t tell if he actually finds it amusing or is just trying to humor you, which makes you feel incredibly silly.

“All of it’s government-issued if you promise never to bite any humans.” Johnny gives a wry smile. “But it’s a mistake to think vampires live glamorous lives, filling up on blood and having no cares in the world.”

“N-no, I get it,” you stutter. “Bad joke.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you or be mean. It’s just the way things are.” Your roles are suddenly reversed, and now he seems to feel some sort of sympathy for you, like you’re just an ignorant little human who doesn’t know any better. The last part of that is more your insecurities speaking out than anything else, but you try to ignore that and take him for his word.

Johnny gets up from the couch to go over to the bookcase as you sip your water. After looking through the photo albums intently, he takes one off the shelf and hands it to you. You set your water down and hold the album carefully as you open the front cover. The cover itself has a neat little label that reads Telluride 1976 - 1980, so you can already expect what you’ll find in it. There are numerous photos of trees, bushes, snowy mountain ranges, lakes, brilliantly vibrant flowers, and woodland creatures. You stop at a picture of a deer looking straight ahead, its black eyes wide and curious as it examines the lens.

“I lived in the mountains back then, a little after my mentor had left. I spent some time trying to reconnect with nature...and all that other hippie shit people used to do back in that era.”

You chuckle. “Did you wear the same kinds of clothes, too? Bell bottoms and tie-dye T-shirts and all?”

Johnny laughs and shrugs. “Maybe…but that’s only for me to know.”

You grin and look at the photos again. “Well…did your plan work, at least?”

Johnny gives a wistful smile. “In some ways, I think it did.”

You continue looking through the rest of the album, which you could probably do for hours if you had the time—just sit and trace every possible line, curve, and ray of light. Johnny sits beside you as you do, occasionally explaining some pictures and their backstories.

“Lately, I’ve been wanting something else to take pictures of...someone else, maybe.”

“What, like a subject?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’d be nice...I haven’t taken pictures of another person in a while.”

You nod quietly as you flip through the pages—another possible hint flying right over your head. Then a thought comes to you—one that makes your skin warm. “Have you ever taken pictures of anyone you were...involved with?” You don’t say it directly, but you hope he can get the gist of what you’re asking.

Johnny nods as if he doesn’t want to admit to it, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “A few different people…but I always gave them the pictures after we, you know, stopped seeing each other...so there’s none left here.”

“I see…” For a few moments, your thoughts circle around that concept. What was it like to bare yourself in front of someone else like that, immortalized on film? What might it be like to allow Johnny to see you like that, to take pictures of you in your most vulnerable form? The idea doesn’t make you as downright anxious as you expected it to, though you can’t completely shake the lingering embarrassment about it.

After you finish looking through the entirety of his Telluride adventures, Johnny shows you some recent pictures he’s developed, and you’re giddy to see your own blurry creations among them. Now that you’re holding them physically in your hands, you can agree that they look nice, each with its own little personality.

“I thought about putting them in a new photo album,” he says, “but you can keep them, if you prefer.”

You hold them to your chest. “Yes, I’d like to keep them. Thank you.” You smile. “I’m sure I’ll leave you with plenty other photos to put in your album, anyway.”

—

The sun is close to setting again. You aren’t ready to leave yet, though, and Johnny is content to let you stay longer. He pulls out another album for you to look at, this one dated with 1960 - 1964. Unlike the others, there’s no title to describe what’s in it except for that year range.

“This is a picture of me someone took before I was turned,” Johnny murmurs, sitting back down beside you. He turns the album to you, and in the middle of the first page is a sepia-toned photo of him sitting on a bed—or maybe a couch?—wearing a suit. White, handwritten lettering on the bottom right of the photograph reads August 4, 1960.

“Oh wow...” You touch the photo gently over its protective lining. “You look exactly the same. Of course.”

“It’s the only photo I have left of myself,” he sighs, leaning back on the sofa. “If it weren’t for that...I’d feel almost like I didn’t exist at all.”

“Do you remember this day?” you ask.

“…Vaguely.” His answer doesn’t feel like the whole truth, and the way his eyes dart anxiously as he says it confirms your suspicions. Then he sighs again, heavier this time, and he seems to be exhaling all 60 years of his burden along with it. “I was...going to be married. It was for our wedding shoot.”

You’re surprised for a reason you’re unsure of, never even imagining that Johnny could’ve been married at one point in time. Could’ve had an entire life and a family, if it hadn’t been for...

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You know you never would’ve met him if things hadn’t happened this way, and that knowledge tugs at your heart in a way that makes you feel intensely selfish.

Johnny shakes his head and avoids your eyes. “It was long ago.” He wets his lips and his jaw clenches like maybe he wants to say something else, but he remains silent for a while.

You continue exploring the photo album in silence. With its thin size, there aren’t as many pictures in it as the others—much less, in fact, but each one is still enough to keep your interest. Your mind keeps drifting back to the one of Johnny.

You hand the album back to him when you’re done. He takes it from you, but in a gesture you don’t foresee, he allows your hands to touch for the first time. You make a tiny flinch at the unexpected coolness—not ice-cold, but enough to be noticeable—but you don’t draw away from him. You let his fingers slide across yours as the photo album leaves your hands, and it sends electricity racing up and down your spine.

“S-sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing for flinching or for making contact at all, though there is no reason to because he initiated it.

“Doesn’t it ever disturb you at all that I’m not human?” Johnny asks softly, still holding the album.

“What?”

“You’ve taken all this so easily...much more easily than many others. You aren’t even disgusted at my cold hands.” A ghost of a grin comes over his face.

“If I were disgusted, I wouldn’t even be here,” you say, trying to lighten the tension. It’s not the kind of tension that arises from anger, offense, or upset, but something else that you are lost on comprehending in this moment. “Some of it’s unfamiliar, obviously, but I’m not disgusted.”

He glances down at the album in his hands, as if contemplating something. Maybe thinking about the only living photo of himself beneath the cover. Or maybe he’s thinking back to how he was turned in the first place and subsequently lost the life he was about to have. He still hasn’t told you anything about how he became a vampire, and though you’d like to know, it’s obviously a sore spot for him.

Eventually, he nods, willing himself to smile at you. “I’m glad.”

—

Night has fallen by the time you’re done exploring the decades of his life, though there is still much you haven’t seen and don’t yet know. You let him drive you back to the school as you stare out at the passing cars, wondering how many more of these people sitting in their vehicles are nonhuman and you’d never know it.

You hesitate after he pulls up across from the main gate.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Uh, nothing really, it’s just—I still don’t have your number or anything.” And I want to talk to you more often. I want to hear your voice more often. You don’t want to say anything overly dramatic or cheesy, so you just keep those last thoughts to yourself.

Thinking it had been something serious, he smirks at your concern. “Oh, I see. I’ll give it to you now, then.”

Once your numbers are safely in each other’s phones, you finally bid each other goodnight. 

Though you try to steer your thoughts towards other things, you keep veering back to Johnny. His apartment. His fridge full of blood bags. His photo albums full of years of history. Even when you get into bed that night, you can’t keep him off your mind.

You wake up gasping and sweating when you dream of him with his fangs in your neck, your own blood running down your neck and chest. You glance over at your roommate to make sure you haven’t woken her and rest your head on your knees, trying to catch your breath and settle your racing heart. Your skin still prickles with how you could practically feel his heated breaths on your neck, ice-cold hands gripping your shoulders.

The worst part of it is that you can’t quite say you completely disliked it.

“It doesn’t make much sense to have a Halloween party and dress up as the very beings that you hate, but whatever…” you mumble, looking through a rack of costumes with a certain impassivity. You’re not very enthusiastic about going to this Halloween party, but your friend refuses to go alone. You haven’t been spending as much time with her anymore—partly because of Johnny and partly because you feel even more out of place around her than normal—and with all her begging and pleading, she refuses to let you opt out of this one.

“It’s about having fun, no one really cares Y/N. They’re freaks, aren’t they? That’s why people dress up as them, they’re practically meant for this.”

You become even more apprehensive about the party after hearing that, if that’s even possible. You smooth your hand over the fabric of a witch’s robe and sigh again, shaking your head. It doesn’t feel quite right to keep spending time in her presence—or anyone else who goes to your school—but you feel trapped on all sides, left without much of a choice. You would never hear the end of it if you tried to switch universities…or even drop out.

Your mind strays back to Johnny as always, with his melancholy aura and weird jokes and pretty pictures and monochrome clothes. The smell of his cologne, the lingering scent of roasted coffee beans, and his toothy smile, when he does show it to you. Something in you makes you want to drop everything you’re doing right now and go to him. It might even be nice to settle in his arms, feel them strong and solid around you—though he’d probably need just as much comforting as you.

“Dress up as this!” Your friend breaks the reverie as she prances over to you with a pair of fake fangs, the tips of them painted in acrylic blood. She holds them up to your mouth, and you struggle to manage a smile, if only to sate her enthusiasm. “It actually reminds me of…that vampire at the café. Say, have you seen him since then?”

You shake your head, moving away to sift through another rack of outfits as you try to maintain a detached expression. “Nope, not a glimpse. Haven’t even thought about him.”

When your friend doesn’t suspect anything, you let your expression drop just a tad, breathing out quietly.

The night of the party, the full moon is heavy and bold against the black blanket of the sky, which feels horribly cliché. You wonder if there are any werewolves out tonight, and what they might be doing right now.

“We’re going to have a good time tonight,” your friend insists as you both walk up the front steps of the host’s house. It’s someone you only vaguely know, a friend of a friend of a friend, but clearly a person who has an abundance of money judging by this expansive home. You don’t know why she feels the need to convince you, but maybe it’s because you haven’t seemed very enthusiastic so far. You only give a thumbs up to her words, which feels like an unconvincing gesture. Luckily for you, it works.

After a few hours, the party is still going strong but your head is starting to hurt from the music, and you’re growing weary of all the men crowding in too close, looking at you in your angel costume like you’re something to be devoured. You’ve rolled your eyes at way too many of them and their haphazardly put-together costumes, dressed up as vampires with terrible fake fangs or werewolves with manes of matted up fur.

Your friend keeps flitting around the party, talking to whoever she recognizes from classes or campus organizations, and you’ve given up on trying to follow her around any longer. Every time you turn around, she’s somewhere else. Noticing that you’re currently solo, a guy from one of your history classes comes up to you and begins what he thinks is an interesting conversation on how angels actually look more like Eldritch abominations than the cherubic humans depicted in paintings—so your costume is “technically inaccurate” —and your eyes glaze over as you pretend to listen to him.

You eventually manage to get away from him and get to an undisturbed corner, wedged next to two girls drinking cider and critically rating all the guys’ costumes. You pull your phone out and think about calling for a ride back to campus, but your thumb hovers over the message icon. You press it without thinking too much about it, and Johnny’s name appears as one of your most recent conversations. Though you feel somewhat nervous, you will yourself to open the box and begin typing.

To: Hi Johnny. I hope I’m not bothering you, but can I come over? 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿 I’m over this party

You put your phone back in your purse, trying not to get your hopes up for a quick response. You know there’s a good chance he’d still be awake at this time of night since he doesn’t need to sleep, but he has his own life and is probably off doing...vampire-y things. Whatever those things could be.

However, your hopes are met when your phone pings only a couple minutes later.

From: Of course. You’re not scared about spending your Halloween with a vampire? 😏

You smile at that.

To: I think I’ll be fine…as long as you don’t bite me.

From: 🦷🩸

—

You get to Johnny’s studio apartment not too long after, and you hang around outside his door for a few moments before knocking, suddenly feeling bashful about your costume. Maybe you should’ve changed before coming over here; what if he thinks it’s childish? Or maybe too revealing? Does he even care about that kind of stuff? Doesn’t matter now, though. You’re here, and there’s no way you’re turning back around.

He answers a few seconds after you knock, wearing a sweater and black pants. You notice his sweater is a cream color and not the usual black. He looks a little surprised to see your costume, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Wow, you look pretty. Nice of you to visit me after falling straight from Heaven.” You cringe at his cheesy line, though you also cannot deny that you secretly enjoy every bit of it.

“Thanks, Johnny...” you say timidly, stepping into his home as he lets you in. “Nice work with changing up the color scheme.”

He’s confused for a moment before realizing you’re talking about his clothes. “Oh yeah, that...um, haha. Thanks.”

Unbeknownst to you, the back of his mind is buzzing with a form of excitement he hasn’t felt in a while. Not the clawing, frantic spikes of bloodlust, but a more physical kind of desire. It’s pleasurable, but he also feels guilty about pining over how sweet and innocent you look in your all-white outfit, stockings hugging your legs perfectly and your dress just short enough to tempt the imagination. Really, you’ve painted a picture of perfect purity, and the only thing he can think about is ruining you. Putting his hands on you and peeling your dress off to reveal the soft skin underneath.

He casts those thoughts aside as you sit prettily on his couch, legs crossed at the ankles—though it’s hard to do so. “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? There isn’t a whole lot of food here, but I can order something…”

“Do you ever make your own coffee?” The question seems a bit random at first, and you try to explain. “You know, since you always get it from the café.”

Johnny smiles. “Do you want coffee? I can make it.”

You nod. “That would be nice…whatever you have.”

“I pretty much have your usual order memorized by now, so I should be good on making it.” Johnny walks to the kitchen. “You can look through the albums while you’re in there. The ones you haven’t seen yet.”

“Oh, thanks.” You feel a little nervous to be looking through the shelf of his treasured photo albums by yourself, but you’re also glad he trusts you enough to let you do it. It makes you feel important. Maybe even important to him, as silly as that might sound.

It isn’t long before the scent of coffee wafts out into the living room. Johnny returns soon with two cups of it, and just as he promised, yours is made just the way you like it.

“Thank you.” You set the album back on the shelf and take the cup from Johnny. For a while, both of you talk of nothing important—just filling the space with the details of your days.

“So how was the party?” Johnny finally asks, and he raises his eyebrows as he scans your outfit again. You grin halfheartedly.

“It was…alright. Kinda weird. I think it’d be more fun if I went to a regular university, but you know…”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t blame you for bailing out.”

“Yeah…I’ve been to college parties before, but the Halloween theme was a bit…”

“Strange for an institution that bans all supernatural beings?” Johnny finishes your sentence. He doesn’t look offended or irritated by it—only slightly amused.

You shrug, biting your lip. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, look on the bright side. I wouldn’t have gotten to see you in your natural form otherwise.”

This one almost goes over your head, too, but you catch it just in time. Johnny’s compliments make you feel warm all over, like you’re sitting under the sun. You grin and look down into your cup of coffee, unused to receiving such bold praise and unsure how to respond to it. Something pops into your mind, though, and you think it might be a good idea to run with it.

“You could...take a picture of me, you know. If you want to...since I’m all dressed up now anyway.” You meet his eyes only for a second and then look away, twisting the mug in your hands.

Johnny sits up a little straighter at your words, trying to catch your eyes, though you don’t hold his gaze for long. “You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. Go ahead! Before I change my mind.” You laugh nervously and carefully set your half-empty mug on the table.

Johnny’s camera is never too far away from him, so he grabs it and plays with the settings for a bit before looking back to you, a small smile on his face. “I’m gonna start, okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft. This, yet again, reminds you of him and the aster bush. He acts as if you might run away at the first shutter click, which makes you feel babied, but you don’t totally hate it.

The first few photos are a little awkward—at least to you. You aren’t sure how to pose, or if you should try to look more casual, though Johnny assures you you’re doing well. He gives you directives throughout, telling you to look in his direction or angle your face a certain way, and you follow his instructions to the best of your ability.

At one point, one of your dress straps slips down. When you go to fix it, Johnny says, “Wait. Could you keep it like that?”

You look at him, your body heating from the suggestion.

“Is that okay with you?”

“…Yes.” Your throat is dry, and your body reacts in a way you don’t expect—little nervous thrills in your hands and feet, though you try to internally explain it away as the coffee’s effects. Johnny takes a few more photos like this, and then he steps closer to gently touch your chin, guiding your face to the angle he’s looking for.

“So good for me.” It slips past his lips in a reverential murmur before he can really consider what he’s saying, and you both freeze. Your heart rate increases, and you wonder if he can hear how hard the red organ is beating in your chest. Probably.

You want to hear him say it again.

Johnny laughs awkwardly, his hand coming back to his side almost a little too quickly to be natural. “Um, I’m really sorry. That was a bit...”

“It…it’s fine.” You avoid his eyes. Johnny takes a few more photos, but the set of his mouth is a little tight, as if he’s stressed about something. Or regretting what he let slip, maybe. You want to tell him you really don’t feel bad about it, but you aren’t sure how to do that without making things more awkward…or revealing your true desires.

When Johnny has taken enough pictures of you to be satisfied with, he sits next to you on the couch, setting his camera on the coffee table and looking suddenly timid.

“I can’t wait to see them,” you say, attempting to break the tension that never really cleared the room after his earlier comment. He blinks for a moment like he doesn’t know what you mean, and then realizes—obviously, he’ll be developing the photos.

“They’ll come out nice, I’m sure. I think you’ll photograph well.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and now it’s your turn to be unsure of how to resurrect the conversation.

“You’re beautiful.” It’s an abrupt comment. It makes your stomach twist in a pleasant, fluttery way, and you become hyperaware of his form sitting next to yours.

“Haven’t heard that one much, but thanks.”

Johnny turns to you. “Anyone who’d think otherwise is a fool.”

There’s a pause after this where you both simply study each other, watching for hidden reactions that can’t be read on the surface. The way he says it is…decisive, assured. But it also manages to be tender, as if he needs you to know what he thinks of you. Needs you to see yourself the way he does—the same way you do for him. You don’t know where the confidence comes from, but maybe his tone and his words and his endlessly dark eyes have pulled it out of you. “I want to kiss you.”

Johnny’s lips part. “Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore. Johnny moves closer to you and cups the back of your neck. Something awakens in his eyes in the seconds before he presses his mouth to yours. Though he wants to drink eagerly from your lips, his kiss is languid to avoid overwhelming you, and there is an audible smack of your lips whenever he pulls away and presses back in.

His mouth tastes like the coffee you just drank, but underneath that you swear you can taste a hint of the deep iron of blood, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You think about what his fangs would feel like scraping against your bottom lip, if he’d ever show them to you, and you moan quietly.

“Do you want this? With me?” Johnny confirms once more, pulling his gaze away from your lips and up to your eyes. His own eyes are yearning, but there is also an element of something like fear roiling in them. As if you’d turn him away, even though you’ve already shown your desire for him.

“Yes. Just you. No one else.”

Johnny’s body gravitates towards yours, and you think he’s going to push you down onto the sofa, but he scoops your legs up and carries you to his bedroom instead. Even his hands on your waist and legs makes you burn inside.

This is the first time you've seen his bedroom. The sheets are cloud-soft when he sets you down on them, and his window lets moonlight shine through the open blinds and scatter in thick beams across the floor. The only other light source is the bedside lamp, which emits a comfortable yellowish glow.

Johnny joins you on the bed and lets you climb into his lap—encourages you to do so. His cool hands pulling at your thighs as you settle them on either side of his waist makes tingles go through your body. You don’t hesitate to bring your lips back together, kissing each other deeply as one of his hands cradles the back of your head and the other settles on the small of your back.

You are certain vampires don’t have any powers of enchantment—that’s for magic wielders. And yet, you feel like you’ve been put in a trance by his kisses alone, and you wonder how you could’ve lived this long without knowing how his lips feel—how they fit perfectly against your own. As if everything up to now has purposely led you together.

You shift in Johnny’s embrace, and the movement causes his thigh to slide between your legs. Your heat is pressed against his thigh directly now, your silken panties catching against the denim of his pants. You murmur against his lips, not really saying anything of substance but wanting to vocalize your desire to him. Johnny’s hand tightens slightly on your back, and he experimentally lifts his leg higher and slides his thigh across you. That draws a gasp from you.

Noticing your positive response, Johnny continues rocking his thigh up against your pussy and kissing you until you’re breathless and your nipples are straining against the fabric of your dress. You pull away from him for a moment to try to ground yourself, feeling like your nerves are already being singed with fiery pleasure. Johnny’s face is noticeably more flushed than before, but he also looks much more composed than you feel at the moment.

“It takes longer to get hard,” he explains, as if reading the lingering question in your own expression. “Since...you know. Slow blood.” You rock your hips over his thigh more enthusiastically, motivated to get him hard underneath you, and you listen to his choppy breaths as you move. Your movements aren’t the smoothest, but he helps you guide your hips in a way that feels good for you both. You’ve never been with anyone before, so it doesn’t much matter to you how long or quick it takes for him to get there as long as he does.

Feeling the bulge grow underneath you excites you. Johnny groans against your lips as you kiss him and rub yourself over his member. The sound comes from somewhere deep inside him, as if it’s something he’s been containing for a long time. Your hand goes to his waist and tugs at his belt loops, then drifts closer to his belt buckle, pulling the leather and metal apart. Johnny pauses when you get off his lap and slide further down, grips your arms like he doesn’t want you to go. “Are…you sure? You don’t have to…if it’s too much—”

“I want to, Johnny.”

With your affirmative, he lets you kneel between his legs, pull his zipper apart, and trace your curious fingers over the bulge beneath the fabric of his underwear. Johnny loses his breath when you drag his underwear down, sliding it over the heated skin of his dick. His length is thick and long—even with him not being fully hard yet—and the tip glistens wet with precum. You weren’t sure what to expect, but this is much bigger than you think you might be able to handle. It makes your face warm and your stomach do another series of flips. Still, you want it and you want him, so you aren’t going to stop now.

You lean closer to press your lips against his shaft, leaving a few soft kisses behind. Johnny’s mouth parts when your mouth touches him.

Johnny gently holds the back of your head as you leave small licks over his shaft, tasting the salty skin on your tongue. He lets out a shaky breath as he watches you, his other hand brushing the side of your face.

“Just like that…” he murmurs, his voice heavy with lust as you circle your tongue around the thick, darkened tip, catching drops of his precum. He never takes his eyes off you, and this makes you feel a little exposed, but you continue with your actions. When you suck Johnny’s tip past your lips, his thighs tense under you, the thick muscle reacting beautifully to your actions on his body.

More precum drips from him, and you find the taste strangely pleasing. It makes you want more of him, of whatever he has to offer you. You wrap your hand around his shaft, though it doesn’t fit entirely around, and begin stroking him in a way you hope feels good.

Johnny’s hand slips over yours to guide your movements and show you how much pressure to apply, what pace to stroke him at. “Like this, baby…yes, that’s so good…” He showers you with praise as you get the hang of it, and he eventually lets your hand go so you can do it on your own, his own hand drifting back to the bed to grip the comforter.

It’s hard to quantify just how much seeing you like this turns him on, you kneeling between his legs with his cock between your lips while wearing your pretty, angelic outfit. His previous guilt about “corrupting” you descends to the very back of his mind as he savors every moment of your hands on his cock and your tongue circling his slit.

“I’m close,” he whispers. You quicken your movements on him, hollowing your cheeks tighter around his dick, and the moan he gives shoots straight between your legs.

Johnny carefully pulls your head back so you won’t choke before he comes, streams of his seed shooting into your mouth and running down his cock. Your hand still squeezes around him as he comes, and he slowly thrusts into the tight circle of your fist as you milk every drop from him. By the time he’s spent, your mouth and hand and part of the sheets are completely sticky with his release. You imagine it must have been a long time since he’s last had an orgasm.

The vampire watches intently as you swallow his cum, which causes his softening dick to throb in your hand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, uncaring of the taste of himself in your mouth. His hair tickles your face as he kisses you feverishly, his nose bumping yours and his tongue prodding past your lips.

“Come here, angel.” Johnny pulls your body up onto the bed before you can get yourself up there first. The pet name makes warmth flood through your body, like drinking a hot chocolate at the café, except a thousand times more satisfying. Johnny’s hands are once again caressing your thighs, though this time they slide up underneath your dress and squeeze your hips. “Can I take these pretty panties off you?”

“Please.”

He hooks his fingers into the sides of them and pulls them down your legs and past your ankles. One of his hands goes underneath your dress to feel you soft and wet against his fingers, and you both moan at the same time. He slides his digits through your lips and over your clit, and him leaning forward to bring his mouth to your throat is enough to have you nearly overwhelmed. His fingers tease your entrance but don’t push inside until you nearly have to beg him.

“Please, Johnny…” You push your hips up to get his attention.

“Do you want my fingers?” he asks softly.

“Y-yes…” At your words, he eases the middle one into you, slowly enough to avoid discomfort. It feels strange to have someone else’s fingers inside you. His finger reaches further than yours can, touching you more deeply than you’ve felt before; it makes you gasp a bit too sharply.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, freezing and thinking he might’ve done something wrong.

“N-no, I’m fine. Keep going.”

Johnny’s mouth edges closer to the cleavage of your dress as he starts thrusting his finger into you, warming you up enough to take a second digit. Shakily, you bring your hands up to slide the straps down and make it easier for him, and his breath hitches when you pull the top of your dress down.

His mouth envelopes one of your nipples as he slides the second finger into you. His fingers encounter a part of you that makes you moan unexpectedly and grab onto him, a little surprised at the sudden spike of pleasure.

“You’re so pretty,” he purrs, his lips moving against the curve of your breast as he speaks. “And so responsive.”

As Johnny’s mouth and fingers work you closer to an orgasm, you marvel at how handsome he looks and how good he feels. He opens his eyes to see you staring at him, your pupils wide and mouth desperate, and he separates himself from your chest to kiss you deeply once again.

When you come around his fingers, Johnny whispers more compliments to you about how good you are and how he wants to watch you come undone because of him all the time. When he thinks you might be on the brink of overstimulation, he takes his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth to taste you.

“I’ll take this off now. Is that okay?” He whispers this into your ear with his hands on either side of your hips, caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I-it’s okay.”

Johnny slips your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your white sheer stockings. The sight of you sitting there on his bed, breathing heavily from your climax in your pretty thigh-highs, has his cock throbbing and rising to life once again.

“Lay back on the bed.” You do, and he settles himself between your legs like you did for him earlier. When you glance at him, his eyes are heavy and piercing. In this moment, you are acutely reminded of the fact that he is not a human, with how he looks like a beast of prey about to devour a meal. You are too nervous to look back at him for long, so you stare at the ceiling with your legs shaking from anticipation.

Johnny’s mouth on you is almost jarring in how wet it is, and you arch up into him in surprise and a rush of pleasure. He gently presses your legs back onto the bed and continues licking into you, parting your lower lips with his tongue and making your thighs tremble under his grasp.

If you had to describe it in words, you probably wouldn’t be able to. He kisses your pussy the same way he kisses you on the mouth, passionately and with more than enough tongue to satisfy. Johnny slips his fingers into you again as he curls his lips around your clit, and you moan unabashedly.

You’re quickly spiraling towards another orgasm, maybe quicker than you expected; but it makes sense with you still being so raw from the climax you just had. You gain enough courage to give another glance down at Johnny, and you see the way his other arm moves back and forth from beneath the bed, stroking himself while he eats you out. Something about that pushes you over the edge, and you cry out as you come on his tongue.

As Johnny gives you time to calm down again, he stands and finally pulls his clothes off, baring his body to you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen a man so beautiful.

He goes to get a condom, and your words stumble from your lips before you can psych yourself out of saying them. “I-I’m on birth control.” Johnny looks back at you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite read. He comes closer to you, holding himself above you on the bed so his face is hovering just above yours.

“You want to feel me raw?” he whispers.

You nod under his burning stare, feeling like you’re on a high you won’t be able to get off of. “I need you, Johnny.”

Johnny climbs fully onto the bed then and positions himself between your legs. His cock is thick and heavy between his thighs as it bumps against your inner thigh and leaves a smear of precum behind. After putting some lube in his hand, he slicks himself with the sticky substance, preparing himself to fuck you open. Something deep in your abdomen shudders, and your walls clench around nothing as you watch him stroke his shaft, the squelching, wet sound of his hand on his dick loud in the quiet room.

When he’s done, he grabs your thighs and pulls you a little closer to him. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The slick tip prodding at your hole makes you want more, though you are a bit afraid of how this is going to feel. When it finally pushes inside of you, you gasp. Johnny watches your face for signs of pain as he slides forward further.

With two previous orgasms and the lube to help, his cock stretches you open with some discomfort, but not the kind of sharp pain you expected. Your nails leave little half-moon shapes on Johnny’s biceps as you squeeze his arms and try to keep your lower half relaxed, wanting to take all of him in—or as much as you can manage, anyway. You try to keep your breathing even as he pushes into you slowly.

Your eyebrows crease and your mouth tightens when he slides deeper still, and he pauses. “Johnny…” You worry your lip with your teeth, feeling like you’ve been stuffed to the brim—and he’s not even all the way in yet.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you beg, maintaining your grip on his arms. “Just…try moving.”

Johnny pulls out and slowly thrusts back in again, angling his dick to find that sensitive spot within you. Your mouth falls open silently when he does; this feels much, much different from his fingers. This is better.

Johnny repeats the movement, being mindful not to push himself too deep—only enough for you to handle. Beneath him, your body begins unwinding at the pleasure he’s delivering to you, and your eyes flutter closed as the ecstasy takes over your mind. One of his hands goes to tease your clit as he settles into a good rhythm, and you cry out at the extra dose of pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well,” Johnny mumbles as he sits back and watches himself slide into you, both of your lower halves slick from lube and your own wetness. “So warm and wet, angel…” You can tell he’s using a lot of his energy to keep his pace controlled and gentle enough for you to actually enjoy. The idea of being fucked harder makes you ache deep inside, but you figure it’s best to save that for when you’re more used to this. You already know it’ll be difficult to walk in the morning after this.

Johnny leans forward to kiss your lips, changing the angle again and circling his pelvis into you, and a choked gasp escapes your mouth at the slow wind of his hips.

Johnny lavishes your neck and throat with kisses, and though he is a vampire, you aren’t worried about him biting you. His fangs have not made an appearance since all this started, and you doubt if he would ever bring them out in front of you. You don’t know if you should ask about it, either, wondering if it’s too soon after only a month and a half of knowing each other—but maybe you could say the same about him being inside of you right now.

“Johnny…” you whisper into the air, your fingers scrabbling against his sweaty skin. The mounting tension in your abdomen is close to snapping, and you are almost frightened by how intense it already feels. He moves his face from your neck to be face-to-face with you again and plants a heavy, dizzying kiss on your lips.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve got you, Y/N.”

Falling apart in Johnny’s arms feels like a form of Heaven that’s meant to be kept hidden, because you might become addicted to it otherwise. Your inner muscles squeeze around his dick as you come. His name flows from your lips in a high song. You can’t imagine any physical sensation that could be better than this, his hips rocking into you as you tighten and cream around him, and you know innately that Johnny has ruined all chances of you ever feeling this fulfilled with anyone but him.

The constant pulse of your walls against his dick is too much to withstand for long, and Johnny’s muscles pull taut with pleasure when he comes, groaning into your neck and spilling overflowing streams of thick cum into you. His hips falter in their former rhythm, and he resists the urge to push himself as deep as he can into you.

When he pulls out, you whine from the discomfort of it, but also because you wish he could stay in you forever. You know you’ll be sore when you wake up—and you can already feel the very beginnings of exhaustion and ache settling in your body—but you’d do it a hundred times over without changing a thing.

—

Johnny curls himself around you after he’s cleaned the both of you up, as if he means to shield you from the world. You’re quiet for a while as you listen to his slow-beating heart and feel his cool skin against yours.

You look up at his face, which is hard to see distinctly in the dark of the room. With the lamp turned out, the only source of light comes from the moon now, but you can decipher enough to make out the shape of his lips and his glittering eyes. You know he can see much better than you in this light, and he takes his time tracing his fingers across your face and cheek, studying your features.

“Would you ever…make me a vampire?”

His body tenses at your question. “Don’t say anything ridiculous. You still have a whole life ahead of you to live. What I have here...this is no existence.” He’s not mad, at least not at you, but his voice hardens at the very idea of it.

“But what if I wanted to live it with you?”

Johnny takes a breath, but he doesn’t say anything to that. He just continues stroking your face and looks at you for a long time, like he’s searching for something. You don’t know if you truly expected an answer from him, or how you would feel if he did give one.

Eventually, your eyes begin to fall low, and sleep overcomes you. The last thing you register is Johnny’s chilly hand touching your cheek. When he notices you’ve drifted off, he pulls the covers tighter around you both. Then he presses you to his chest as he tunes out the sound of cars rumbling on the streets below in exchange for the beating of your heart—still alive, so red with blood.